Some gods say, the tiny ones, "I am not here in your vibrant, moist lips That need to beach themselves upon the golden shore of a Naked body."
Some gods say, "I am not the sacred yearning in the unrequited soul; I am not the blushing cheek Of every star and Planet--
I am not the applauding Chef Of those precious secretions that can distill The whole mind into a perfect wincing jewel, if only For a moment Nor do I reside in every pile of sweet warm dung Born of the Earth's Gratuity."
Some gods say, the ones we need to hang, "your mouth is not designed to know His, Love was not born to consume the luminous realms."
Dear ones, Beware of the tiny gods frightened men Create To bring an anesthetic relief To their sad Days.