I'd be content with you
striking thunder unto my eyes
if what I feel - is not her thighs,
like twin snakes,
constricting my skull;
- deafening me.
All noises are null:
I, ignorantly, believe. -
All - but - the voice of she,
- 'tis such a sweet melody.
It's the only noise I seem -
to pay careful, close attention to.
The voice of she
is what I need -
deep within the canal of my ear.
Is this dream too far from near -
possible?
Now, I must ask, do-
you hear the tears I cry:
smashing down- on the floor boards?
Lust -
must've slipped my mother's mind -
whilst explaining to me -
life's lesions on one's aura.