This week’s poetic cipher: IHTGW UHZGXWK WUCL AUHGKGGC XCZ JCUSC

And our hint of the week: I have heard of a something-or-other, growing in its nook, swelling and rising, pushing up its covering. Upon that boneless thing a cocky-minded young woman took a grip with her hands; with her apron a lord’s daughter covered the tumescent thing. ZUTLE