Laying here
in the midst of pitch
& this glow light,
I imagine you
dressed in black,
lying
on your back
in dreamy need.

And I do
fight the pangs,
a hardness created
by wild desires,
hormonal in nature,
brought on by
my gyrations
& I succumb,
lay breathless
in the dark,
covered by my seed.

But O Sweet Darling,
I pledge,
make a solemn oath
& do promise
to get up
for you again.

For if you knew,
how hard I keep them,
you'd smile,
licking your lips,
in the darkness, too.