Let me soak in your warm touch,
in your relaxing swagger, your kisses
and touches a sparkling moment of hotness
lingering on my lubricious lips, savoring
the scent of your minty breath, how you
illuminate the poetry revolving in my inner
thoughts, the rarest jewel alive and vibrant.

I want to ride your spellbinding roller coaster,
feel the amazement of your flesh shocking me
like a thousand waves of electricity, feeling
completely convulsed, sprung on your drumbeat,
unable to get off my feet, succumbing to the special
tune, never wishing to miss your sexiness.

Right at the contour,

Decorative canyons of dire, descending ornaments,

Occluded with mixed smoke signals.

Those heading to their number beds,

Pray to the analytical gods,

"Dear Lord, bell curve distribution. Please, please, please..."

People have short memories,
They easily tend to forget the dead,
So stop striving to impress people.
6/11/2020