Son et Lumiere

By
Devout is this frame to the nerves cruising from tailbone to neck
The soft spot at the nape opposite the spine throbbing with
Maddening pulse against searing, flaming lips
I have been denied for such a time of this
Debauchery with all the feelings of lust that accompany young love
A complex and worthwhile sin
A rushed need, an anxious abandonment of ornaments in this cramped space
Our breathing does not falter in all its greedy haste
Pulling into our beings all that will shift
The world giving to my desires, tilting into oblivion
It is the promise that is the warmth of skin
The desire that is mindful, physical and unabridged
128 miles I've raced for this
To once again taste your lips





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