Mush

[angreepoet]

You made love to me;
called me into the tribal dance
for the extasy
of being underneath you;
and even if it was our
last night together for a while,
you still linger in foreign scent
between my sheets
and unwashed hands
made pure upon the touch of
your cheek to my palm.
You were sweating out my anthem
while I was screaming out your name -
purging my mouth of all but you -
in an effort to make you more
inside me
by putting the idea of you
into words
that never really explained nothing anyway
but the label I gave the notion
of your brilliance
in motion -
exilleration
of watching skin tighten
over flexed muscles
opening arms like trap doors
in my mind,
then closing about my shoulders
in position much like prayer
doing homage like heroin
to the irreverance of the moment
we first touched.
Dirty secrets to use is doing it
in public
without getting caught.
Shame plays the role of the villian
that we refuse to allow into our
heaven
dedicated to the pure enjoyment of
ourselves -
there is no room for guilt
between my thighs
that are already filled with you,
We are a damn good time.
I am your carnival
you are my playground..
You could eat me like cotton candy
and I can ride on your
intensity
like a merry-go-round
while you take me in the midst
of your inertia -
pulling g's like you pull my hair -
my head will still be reeling
long after you've slowed down.