1
On a dusty June Morning, I was awakened by fire engine sirens,
From a dream that featured a faceless Nietzsche and Lord Byron,
Warning me that lust is an ever growing anti-spiritual tyrant,
“It devours all those that it’s empowered” they said,
The air swirled with arterial blues and blood rich reds,
The surface started to pump something beneath me,
Amidst the floors convulsing, I felt my mortality pulsing and suddenly cease.
Was I alive or dead?
Was this unearthly vibration somehow contrived in my head?
The smell of the city swept through my room swiftly,
To my left, she laid in sweet slumber,
Another uneventful fling from last summer….
All I want to do is liberate you physically,
Fill your mind with a multitude of ecstasy,
Fourplay Lesson A,
Lesson B? A connection of a higher power,
Steamy glass doors with impressions of our bodies after long showers,
Tasting the nectar of your sweet flower,
An incomparable deliciousness,
Your body is a temple where I worship,
I believe all of your imperfections are perfect,
My fingers trace along smooth curves of inner thighs,
And much more,
A voracious look in your eye is what I lust for,
Lost in your sensual caressing,
I take every kiss on my body as a blessing…
