The asking for you to see beyond the brown in my eyes.
The search for the blindness in deep kisses.
The indellible servitude to touch you.
And for moans to taste like sweet music.
Scratches to the skin to feel like tasty climaxes
****** contortions and clenched fists and locked limbs comforting in sweat.
This is what night poems are about.
Cigars on ice!