Ghost Under the Eaves Options

[Kay]

She makes love to me everyday.
We become a cross. Other times, a roasting spit.
When she slips inside, I am a pink melon,
asking for a kiss to bruise the gods.

My belly feels light. I remember being eleven,
and kneeling at the feet of Our Lady of Guadalupe--
praying for breasts, for the map of a man.

Then, I found her:
soft around the mouth;
she leaves a flutter in my ribs,
a ghost under the eaves.

[Kay]

Forgive me for taking so long to reply. I've had some funerals to attend and a lot going on. If you'd like to nominate it that'd be great.
Steve, yes, it is a little experiment of mine and is rather sexually laces. A lot out of my league. Wanted to take a risk or two.
I will keep all these suggestions. Thank you so much..