Pupils dilate,
control capsized.
bring you
close enough
to fill more
than your eyes.

**** the literary pretence!
fulfil my lust.
Give me your
sweet recompense.

Each touch
and caress,
types pure feeling.
Sensations that
give words no meaning.

We write this act
upon the world.
With sounds of
animal grammar.

Time can wait,
well past sunrise.
Our stanzas
on our bodies;
as we sleep in
each others eyes.

Every morning
I wake to the ones
that can't hold their tongues.
We all know
they don't have a mind
of their own.
Brought up in a home
where they won't let me go
won't let me come out
or let me be.
On the count of three,
we'll all be asleep
and I'll never be free...