She's absolutely delicious,
sweet like a nectarine,
light fuzz covers her
in all the right places.

I love the way she gushes,
so juicy like a ripe peach,
flowing in abundance,
heavenly-stickiness,
her face looking stellar.

She's very kind
& super fine,
teaches me
how to love her,
tasty like a cobbler,
I gobble her up
every chance I get,
it drives me
out of my mind.

She's definitly not a pet, but
rather a bowl of succulent fruit,
******* the size of peaches
with stout lovely-*******,
as hard as the pits.

I can't wait
to jam it with her,
I want  to make some
marmalade
of my own.

She electrifies me,
lying next to her
makes me feel
like I've been stung
by an electric eel.
Her touch
makes my *******
sting with desire,
a million volts
course through
my body inside her.
When she starts her
machine,  she's a dynamo.
There's no such thing
as slow motion with her,
she's so magnetic,
always draws my thick flow
right out of me
in a mutual explosion
& leaves me buzzing for more.

Lying here
in the darkness,
I am sending you
good vibes
across the astral plane.
I find it hard
not to refrain
my sensual-intent,
but visions of you
being bent over
trickle from the stars,
making me wonder
if your fingers
point to the Heavens.
I can only speculate
& like I said,
send you into
that special place,
a nirvana in the sky.

Kundalini time
Bending stretching twisting fine
Kiss the sky, body bliss

Houston,
We seem to have a problem
Love never took off
The way we were expecting

After all the flowers
And all the money spent
We never had a go
We never made a dent

Houston,
All systems have shut down
We never could get this love affair
Up off the ground

10, 9, 8
7 and then 6
That's only as far
As this countdown went

Houston,
Could we give it another try
Isn't there a back up
Could we launch this thing at night

Although a love like this
Has been in the plan for years
All it is that we have left
Is a control room full of tears

Houston,
We seem to have a problem
Love never took off
The way we were expecting

When I'm with my baby
I know I'll always have a job
She keeps my life so busy
I'm never nodding off

Occupational hazard
Is what my baby breeds
I feel like Merle...always Haggard
If you know what I mean

Some days she is a walk in space
Guess that makes me an Astronaut
Other days a Florist
As I arrange her Forget Me Nots

I've even been a Farmer
When she leaves me standing out in left field
Also working in the Dairy
As she cries over spilt milk

This girls is definitely a workout
So add Body Builder to my resume
And some of the things I've found out
I'd put the NSA to shame

Don't forget Taxi Driver
As she runs me all over town
Also Professional Mover
With my heart continually moving South

I've become a top notch Surgeon
The times that my hearts removed
And a teacher of higher education
When each lesson learned is new

Yes, when I'm with my baby
I know I'll always have a job
As she keeps my life so busy
No way am I nodding off

I frequent a little taco stand
Every time that I'm out west
With Elvis behind the counter
Dressed in his leathers best

Janice Joplin doing dishes
With Southern Comfort breath
Arguing with fry cook Jim Morrison
Over the best way of cheating death

Jimi Hendrix works the tables
That they have set up out front
Recommending the mushroom taco
With the psychedelic crunch

Marilyn Monroe...the entertainment
Nightly serenades the gents
While wearing here favorite T-shirt
Bobby Kennedy for president

I highly recommend the little taco stand
If you ever find yourself out West
Who's going to show up to take your order that day
Could be anybody's guess

she loves to dance in bedlam
to the beat the shadows throw
in a gown of sequin macabre
since her mind left home

where webs of  deceit hang from chandlers
and madness is the party game
blowing the horns of something's wrong
in an eerie game of charades

the cook that's in her kitchen
bakes a don't dare go there souffle
though she dips her fingers in it
through out her darken days

you may take the chance in joining her in dance
on this the razors edge
when all is said and the day has bled
she pulls the sheets of madness up on her bed

my throat is a forest fire,
a burning map that never leads to
'the depths of virginia'

your hands are made of water,
icy cold and haunting and
I don't know what else to say except
"please"

I sometimes think that we should have a history book
rewritten with our names, because I'll be ******* if
we are not rewarded for the way we forget about our past

I WONDER IF WHAT WE TALK ABOUT AFTER MIDNIGHT
HAS ANY IMPACT ON THE WAY YOUR HEART BEATS AND IF
IT DOES IS IT WATERED DOWN BECAUSE OF BEFORE
AND I WANT TO KNOW IF MY WORDS HAVE THE SAME
EFFECT ON YOU AS YOURS ON ME AND I WANT TO SWIM
in the James River and forget how to sway my limbs around to float

this is not a love poem
this is not an "I miss you, come back" poem
this is a confession
this is a love letter
written on the palms of my hands because I know
you'll never get over how badly they shake

maybe I'm confused or lovesick or homesick
for a home that can only be found inside of warm chests
but I needed to write this for someone, for myself

maybe my questions don't need answers,
maybe they just need to be heard.