I am a museum.
There flows under me a raving light
down the ravine,
My palette shifts.
It has rotated
on Nature’s turntable
turning and pausing,
perfusing and dotting
with its bliss.
Finally this most potent elixir
by the portrait of
you kneeling over my shrine,
these long thick legs of mine.
I think not about vulnerability.
for I am alone with one to love,
you and erotic instinct.
This is not surrender,
but a summons
for your pleasuring of me.
With me supine
and you on your knees,
you purr and sigh,
tower and breathe;
as I coo in the cool caresses
of your wet lips on my knees.
Into my thighs ribcage belly hips,
the invasion of your exquisite hands
scalds rays of pomegranate red heat
through my porous sands.
Like white coals awaiting a flame,
my soft flat stomach arches
into your teasing game.
In hot hands I feel your desire
indelibly soft, traveling
up thighs to hip bones,
up waist to rib bones.
Sliding down muscles of shoulders
across mounds of breasts,
pulling tight over hard nipples-
you know what makes me moan
and create a lava-like glow and flow
of bubbling red tides
beneath radiating flesh.
Your limbs comprehend
my body art
like no others dared-
petting my need and filling my desire
with the higher laws of gods and sex.
Reaching deep into art and marriage,
conjuring up lucid effects.
infusing flesh with new life.
The brightest colors
not just the reds, yellows, and blues
of tertiary spectrum,
but pomegranate, sapphire, opal, and gold,
vanilla, marigold, night, and emerald.
Urging me to paint your every inch
with their bold wetness.
Licking, kneading, scurrying, haunting-
your arms become wet azure soil,
your hands, my onyx black sculptors.
Your chest glows with marigold
as pools of pomegranate sweat
evaporate off slick concaves
and taunted, fertile breasts.
Your taut vibrating skin
soaks my brilliant colors
into its dark soil,
coalesces with the primitive
to recombine with my sweaty
disavowal of control.
When I can no longer continue
consuming you with my eyes
as I love to see.
Too caught up in the breath
and feeling you feeling me.
I will seizure with love,
sharing my everything.
For you to drink up
into your pineal spring.
You stay locked in
until the waves pass.
Your riveted attention
rescuing me from celibacy.
Imagine how you please me
and I worship you,
how we make love.
Yes, in ten different ways.
We’ve only just begun.
You speak in euphemisms of your own making,
rattling off sycophantic truths in tongues
and ostracizing the periphery along the way
as they patter all over your sapient misnomers.
But I am caught in the know;
seeing the ice castle worlds that inhabit your mind.
I slide down them with mirth in me,
exalting in the cool sweat left
glistening along slick, bare flesh.
Your genius coming drips down the length
of my backside,
sloping into refreshing flux.
Lashed by your mindscape
I am outstretched, as on the rack.
Spread onto the clammy wall,
with such heat that fuses flesh into plaster
skinned and pink jaws of cheek and ear
just as envisioned, mollified with matter.
The obsessive tension of possession
famines my overextended knuckles,
reddening ravenous tips
clawing and bleeding into solid with desire.
A breath already drawn and stuck
laxens my mouth into dripping lips
with supple anticipation.
Your gaze is riveted to me
undistracted by the throb of predestination
flaring in your loins.
You remain unimpressed, a pacing pragmatism
reeling in explosive coolness,
polarizing this blinded beauty from behind.
To struggle is to surrender.
For you are already behind me
spreading fire through my limbs.
At once catalyzing my lascivious circuitry
with syncopated breaths, cogent grip
over my quivering synapses. Solid in waiting,
suspended sanguine, until you come,
convulsing in contradictory convictions,
the Marquis himself never inspired
In our decadent cradle of human entwinement,
I find my release from worldly things.
Your entrance opens the gates of ecstasy
as you probe my deepest cavity,
surging your life force into me.
I see nothing tangible-
Only the mythical creatures
swirling around us,
splashing us with brilliance.
Shifting shadows of spiritual forms
that merge with us.
In darkness and in light.
I hear nothing audible-
Only the primal moans that emerge from our depths
and the coursing of blood;
Mine, yours, the heavens.
My senses edge into that new dimension
Unattributable to the orbs
Unattainable by mere orifice.
I taste myself on your lips
and with your essence heating my breath
I plunge my tongue into the wetness of your mouth,
thrusting into it as if it was my own flowing chasm.
Our sex combines into an irreplicable elixir,
my tongue becoming its own entity.
It seems to think,
that it can meet your very soul.
Yes, my own slithering snake begs,
like my writhing body,
for your all-encompassing ofference.
I have taken you into me
As my self-devouring need dictates.
I cannot resist the carnal abandon.
I am hopeless in the face of your love.
and if you dare set your fiery gaze into me,
the final wall will crumble into the wayside.
I am yours
I am yours, throbbing as I do
Only for you.
Manipulate me with subtle language.
Embrace it, divulging the prosaic lie
Lingering on the salty summer ridge-
the carnal threshold searing from my thigh!
A warm serpent burrows inside my mind
As it lights a fire, caressing the strait.
Imploring breaths cajole a willed grind
Dripping fire into the rivets we create.
Along a lethargy of meaning, to
A snarled torrent of scurrilous bliss.
It unfolds unto jaded veins anew,
Seeping out in blankets of catharsis.
The coupling of such drives echoes the heartbeat-
As the fate which offers not vista retreat.