A wave is a wave,
Like a particle is a particle.
A ripple,
A droplet.

Language is not important,
For all concepts are constants.

That is,
The truly objective
And not what is perspective.
That's science!
It's fun,
You'll love it.
You live it!

What I'm saying is
That language & languages change,
The nature of any one given
And those which are still spoken.

Other such things?
They fall apart,
They collapse into dust.
Returning from whence they came.

Paper degrades, wood burns,
Clay crumbles, stone erodes -
What is it? That always which continues?
Such things as the voice of truth & of logic.

As long as there are those who speak it,
As long as there are those
Who are both willing & capable.
All of which any may choose to learn.

History shows,
Only fools don't learn it.
Wisdom knows,
Only the wise really keep it.

So many ways to reduce it!
So many ways to expand upon it!
It's all about knowing!
It's all about sharing!

Going off the handle?
Better to say, gone?
Broke the neck off the bottle,
When you were just trying to
Get the cork off?
Perhaps you twisted too hard,
Slow down & be gentle.
Love isn't a race,
It's a marathon.

A rhyme heard from when he was younger,
For there was a love perverted for the Greeks & Romans.
There was more, but I won't go on.

No teasing, no wait, just pure delight,
I take him in, my mouth grips tight.
My tongue glides slow, tracing his head,
Feeling him throb as my hunger’s fed.

The taste of him lingers, salty and raw,
My lips move steady, without a flaw.
Up and down, two strokes in a row,
My hands explore him, my passion on show.

I stroke his shaft, cradle his need,
******* him deep, fulfilling his greed.
His moans grow louder, his breath a cry,
His hips buck wildly, reaching the sky.

Wanting, needing, his control is gone,
I take him deeper, until he’s undone.

Because another sips
     Her nectar, Death,
          Today
Please kiss these dusty lips,
     And take my breath
          Away.

The fantasies of love; I fancy myself
a glove— holding onto old befores, and
wearing out the test of time

A girl I would proudly call mine
Bribe my way into making a memory my bride; two
seductions of the tied ties, sleeping together at the odds night
And to wake up with a reasonable excuse to be tired

But I've tried to be like a peck of flightless birds—
no reason to fly south like the rest. As I encouraged
her to rest under my wing, upon my smothered talk in
her *******

Two crushing walls on my face in between thighs,
and her ****** being a tall tower close to rise
But I despise the extra seconds it takes to build up
her high. And why like vampires ****, is because
they don't use much of their tongue

But by the batting of her eyes, she is close to come,
to a point of returning a tip of this favourable fun

Strip of fabric folded
Darkening the day
So that you not see
Desire radiating

*** cherry red
Soft hands clapping
Flushing the cheeks
And then you smile

I want to be your teeth
So that your tongue
Is constantly touching
Feeling and licking

Black cat arched back
Fingers arachnid running
Descending and deliberate
I want to be your teeth