If the title Darling, may I touch your pinkletink is a serious question, (and it is), then every human in possession of a pinkletink (and that is everyone) might cry out touch in celebration of the way we are touched by these poems. Like the one who wields the sharp-tipped rapier, or the blunt-tipped epee, Lee is something of a fencing master as he seeks and finds the mot juste for both anatomy and soul in celebration of both lust and loving. Thrust...