Your Breasts

Your breasts are
mountain haves of honey and zest
the taste
that would never be erased
from the tang
of universe,
like such birds of a nest

On your breasts are where
the weariness of souls and chest-wounds
are empowered and braced,

where castaways like me are graced,
where all the ambrosias of tenderness
and benignity in the world,
are safeguarded, sheltered
and placed,

where
my believes in man
is rooted and based,
where the broken hearts
are mended ad paced.

Your breasts are the saveheaven,
the heights
that the partridge of kissers
by huntsmen
no longer
are chased.

serene
The tranquil cushions of comfort
in the world free of
others
toxic
waste.