Poem: His Love: by Orville Lloyd Douglas

His hands are like an inferno racing across the wilderness of my flesh.

His skin is like a blanket that protects the solitude.

His kisses are more potent than a drug.

His love knows no boundaries it travels across continents, oceans, mountains, archipelagos.

Like a rainstorm flooding across the Sahara.

This emotion is like a famine, a constant craving that is eternal.