Summer Night

When you cascade down the mountain of desire,
And you find someone in this fantastic fire,
His eyes shine like molten gold, on fields of green,
And the juiciest nipples you’ve ever seen.

He charms his way, upon horses of lust,
His hair kindles an ache with every thrust,
The arms he draws around, in virtual space,
Take you out from the confines of time and place.
His angst in passion found surfeit in you;
Who bothers then to filter the false from the true?
As the tumult of heat rides the peak of flame,
You climax in throes as he calls out your name.

So you can’t touch his fair hair or steal a kiss,
As he lays spent within his moments of bliss;
But you know he throbbed seeing your form on screen,
That’s enough for now, there is no could have been.

Think only of his brown beard, on lips flushed red,
And know he’ll think of you, tonight, in his bed.

Flush

As the tongue invades in the mouth,
The body begins to gleam,
The heat invades further into completion
And parts of the body redden:
The lips, the back, the nipples.
It’s a blossoming of the wound,
The kneading of the ache,
The feeling of the pulse
Throbbing in parts mostly dormant.
The hand grips the back of the neck,
The pounding reaches the ears;
And when the kaleidoscope erupts,
The world is extinguished.