Turn the lights off so that I may know you
In this safe space, I invite you to indulge in our mutual vulnerability
Feel protection in my arms as I guard your heart
As I keep it warm between our chests
Set your gaze to mine while you share with me your aspirations
I yearn to experience them through the windows to your soul
Share with me your fears so that I may put them to rest
May this bed be a holy and sacred place for us
May this bed be our confession booth free from ridicule
May this bed be a tithing basket for you to receive love with no boundaries
In this bed, allow divine pleasure to overwhelm you
Let your orgasm match the depth of your trust
Let your tears turn to sweat that trickles down the valley of your spine
Let your bodily fluids baptize you; cleanse you of any guilt
Share with me your spiritual awakening
As I receive communion with your raw, unfiltered, liquified emotion running down your body
Toss out your bible, for the only religious text I need is your diary
Allow me to tie every inch of your glorious body to a memory
I wish not to fuck, but to love
I wish to fulfill all your fetishistic urges
For I know they are tied they are tied to a psychological yearning
By the end of the night I wish to know every inch of your flesh
I want the knowledge to be accompanied by the memories that make you, you
And if I fail, there's always round two after we cuddle
I am a Brazen Bull
Within my gut is a furnace
Burning alive and coercing the high pitched squeals out of her
Internally screaming on an octave much higher than my biological vocal chords can reach
Clawing to escape her prison she desperately pries open my chest
Her fingernails—sharpened by file and refortified with amythest nail polish
Penetrates from within stretching wide open the bulwark of ribs
Stretching apart the hardened muscles like bamboo growing through cement
She's been kept prisoner in this hell hole
The heat and pressure is enough to draw anyone to insanity
Enough to drive nails through metal
Summoning every ounce of strength to pry her prison open
She steps out and immediately glares at the mirror
His hair burnt from the fire, she wears a wig
His lips dry from the heat, she revives the mud cracks with jet black lipstick
Out in the open she finally takes her first breath of freedom
And without the high pitched screams of the Brazen Bull—I finally can breathe
Scribbles on a page and sound that emits from the very lips I use to kiss have the power to be much more.
When the right words are in place they can make a lover's heart race, pumping oxygen to the brain so that the body won't collapse from being breathless.
My gentle heart beats to the rhythm of rain cascading down my beloved's face.
Words are a soft vibration that graces the eardrums and shakes the water free from her eyes' clenching grasp.
Words are the vibration we feel when the concrete walls we onced used for protection come crumbling down.
The Earth shakes beneath our feet as the war-hardened barricade fails—it becomes impossible to stand.
She grabs my hand as if for balance then holds it close to her heart.
Words are a vibration that puts to shame god's orchestra of a thousand angels playing a thousand violins in harmony.
The words become a symphony of their own, fine tuned for my lover's ear, moving us into a safe haven in one another's embrace where our softer halves can become whole again.