Flowers are the sexual organs
of 360, 000 species of plants
you read, and went outside
with torch and table salt;
to hunt pale slugs that hide
in velvet beds of sky-at-nights.
The proper name for one
that is intersexed and so
needs nothing, is ‘perfect’,
you whispered in the dark;
as night creatures laboured
and flies rested undisturbed.
Finally, you went to bed
– a thin veil of salt dust
masking the acrid musk
of your untouchable skin –
between a spike in the wind
and spit of cuckoo pint.
KatNeocleousPoetry 
This is full of the music of its sounds, as well as a strange music of another sort, in its ideas and images and textures.
Thanks, that’s great feedback – and always very much appreciated.