I play to the tempo
of a different sort,
when I visualize
what you do to me,
such contortions,
changing course
with hardened blazing-steel,
it feels so real.
I feel
the rush of the waves,
stimulating me,
building to a crescendo,
& I think I want
this to last forever.
But near the brink,
my breath shortens,
then I shudder,
arc explosively,
spasmodically
clenching myself
with your grip
to a sweet emptiness,
Here alone
I lie breathless,
thinking of your tender caress
& dreaming
of your succulent-fragrance.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:46 AM UTC
I play to the tempo
of a different sort,
when I visualize
what you do to me,
such contortions,
changing course
with hardened blazing-steel,
it feels so real.
I feel
the rush of the waves,
stimulating me,
building to a crescendo,
& I think I want
this to last forever.
But near the brink,
my breath shortens,
then I shudder,
arc explosively,
spasmodically
clenching myself
with your grip
to a sweet emptiness,
Here alone
I lie breathless,
thinking of your tender caress
& dreaming
of your succulent-fragrance.
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