She's a strong little wench

She's a strong little wench with a tight bod
Who moves it amusingly at my nod:
Back upon my soul's pole, or forth to froth.
All the ways she moves, no move is loss.

Each way she shimmers is sheer gain to me
Who, by losing all, get more than greed.
So we argue with arms, and with legs amend,
Until in salty shimmer we agree

And in a molten moment unbegun
Two, who as woman and man began,
Hammer, anvil and tongues reforge as one
When heat's enough, and gladdened hearts just can.

If this accord's accounted a chimera
Then let me in illusion lie and “ah…”