beyond metaphor

As I ponder that still veneration of those eyes glimmering with decay I'm left loving the lips that formulate release and the hush of her diminutive lure. with the same gestural delicacy, she lulls thee to be sexed in vaguely lit edens of dusk. for fire simply designates the essence and the malleability of our flesh when drenched left glistening with perplexities nometaphor shall quench.