You must believe that you
can escape the prison
of your present.

The innocent future is available
if you empty your memory
and enter the fire that calls you.

You must believe there
is an angelic ****
you can **** that will
rekindle your virginity
and make you pure once more
in this deadly profane world.

You must imagine living
far from the prison of now
in a small house surrounded
by flowers and possibilities;
a small house that can become a home
despite the dreary lovers
buried in the flesh of your past.

What were they anyway but
mistaken barbarian shafts
upon which you impaled yourself
because you longed for love
but discovered only six inches
of throbbing, indifferent muscle
spurting urgent, burning seed
for their own pleasure?

When you never came did you think
you were being denied for settling,
for promiscuously accepting the
futility of their grunting flesh?

You must learn to **** the spirit,
not just magazine bodies and faces.

You must realise you
are ******* for your very being.

This is hardly about mere lust.

****** alone cannot possibly
solve the riddles of existence.

You must open your legs wide
once more to the ******* of hope.

You must know that it is possible
to escape the prison of the present
and emerge like a spring blossom
into the hands of a holy future
if only you let its fingers
pleasure you to ripe perfection,
if only you allow its swollen *****
to ****** deeply enough
to nourish your heart
with its steaming, sticky sanctity.

Meat and soul must finally conjoin
and in their junction innocence
will find and carry you triumphantly
like a chaste bride to the home you seek.

   ~mce