Fabrice Poussin writes

Tickling her Soul
 
How gentle the tickling of a soul
he nurtures with sweet beating grains
sand of passing hours upon the flesh. 


Armed with celestial vision
nothing is a secret to the one who
sees through the walls of frail endurance. 


He wonders the ways to preserve the flow
the precious energy she traces on the air
fireworks in the radiating entrails. 


The only aim for this odd adventurer
to feed the distant beloved with such delight
so she may feel the beam of universal glee.