Well I put Ruby lips on the Gaz. I knew they would roast it like a pig at a Packer tailgate party. Here are some of the comments of the 'elite'.
1.
"This is really worthless. There is no point in going over it line by line to point out its many errors because it could not be improved to a point where it would interest
an experienced reader.

You'd need to start over, and that's both bad news and good news. The good news is that you can purchase or borrow a decent book on the craft of writing poetry
before you post your next poem. I usually recommend "A Poetry Handbook" by Mary Oliver. It's relatively short, has good examples, and provides information that
can be applied to may different poetic styles.

If this work is representative of your poetry, you really need more help than you will get through posting and on-line critique."
2.
Triston, this poem offers way more information than I need about what's going on. It says dull things about sexual acts in a completely boring manner.

Why would what you do in private be interesting to me? And to join your lips to someone's pelvis, well, they'd have to be some whoppers. Not only that, but you're
tapping your foot in 3/4 time. Give me a break.

This in no way resembles poetry.
3.
The poem is full of abstractions (panic, fantasy, soul, fears, love), cliches (intoxicating breath, caustic effect, savage discourse of love, ruby wine dances upon her
lips), and strange, ridiculous language (Ragged hands torn by a gluttony of slivers grapple along the feminine fears, A tear dispersed by a kiss evolves my
temperament to distinguish between past perceptions to a future)

I'm guessing you are a beginner. Spend some time reading other poets and other poetry on this site. You will learn fast.

Okay so there was a few cliches in there. I admit that, but I also liked the abstractions that was the point. As far as the ridiculous language, well it made sense to me, but I suppose if it only makes sense to me then I'm not communicating very well now either am I? So now what? I'm not a poet or even think like one. Maybe I should focus on my stories, but then again they will be filled with chiches, abstractions and strange language. I feel winded right now.

me