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By coujeaux Date: 2003 Nov 05 Comment on this Work [[2003.11.05.11.22.15101]] |
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Deliberate light of a cigarette, up cranes his head; squints the eyes to scan streets again, And as he waves out flame his hand stops in mid-motion to enjoy taste of the carcinogen. Tip go toes, tapping tread slowly, follow the slow sashay, saying whilst thou come to play? It's an irresistable, one-time invitation to leave what you know for a night 'til break of day. Then up she stepped, looking him up and down, hand on the rail, caressing, bathing intent, Added to his consideration was her whispered telepathic: "Yes, you know what that meant." Sultrial shadowmists envelop lovers in the blinkeyed fade; hide we, so tempted, from sight, What we do here is our business to pleasure, not a spectacle of jealous ne'er doers to smite. Sit you in the corner of your chapels, read your good book and cringe at thought of a touch, With every curse thrown in our direction we change positions to celebrate doing it too much. I'll not make the vow of no woman if you swear at my profligate ways and degenerate slide, For my sneer drips with her nectar, fresh from a violation of what has drawn me deep inside. Tactile, preparation; she is the braille by which I am guided, every curve chapter of our lust, Questioning my intention, perhaps, but as I lay me down beside, answered clear; oh, I must. Rise, he; arms outstretched straight as the cross, become my salvation, beauty; drain of sin, Then she enringlets him, kissing of the chalice; take, this my body, sip of my essence within. I've no coda but sweet nothings, no promised lands save for scapes of those like us, so free, Searching for intrepid oasis that roams far into forbidden borderland in search of one, as me. |