Prurient Pigeon Poem (explicit)

Where doth the pigeon nestle hot and snug
Behind thine zipper pressing for release
Awaiting digits tentative warm tug
And fingertips soft brush and stroking tease
What sayeth thee to pleasure's beck and call
To rise salt tide toward moon's magnetic pull
What sayeth thee to eros throb and fall
That maketh sweet thine member turgid full
And what of lips that whispergraze a thigh
Or lick and nibble hungrily at play
That take thee in and kiss thee desert dry
'Til spent behold we close of raptured day
Pray tell what more could eager mouth desire
Than verily to quench thine fevered fire