Dreams and Wakings
I wake up. She's still there. I'm still there. I'm in a big warm comfortable bed in a cozy vortex of a house owned by the woman I just slept with. Slept with? Well how about amazingly crazy partially shy and new fun sex time? Oh the intimacy of naked flesh on flesh, the bones leveraging bones, the lips and the eyes and the smell of sweat and hair product, sex fumes lingering... I fucked a wise and beautiful woman who has explained quite clearly to me before and after that it's just sex and nothing more serious but I don't care because I am so totally in love with her eyes and brain and face and body that I will fall asleep thinking about her and wake up first thing wondering when I will see her next. I am giddy as a horsefly at a barbaque.
God I love this fickle-hearted, cruel-step dance of fate! There isn't enough music in the history of the world to capture my emotions soaring into bursted cloud-dreams of luxuriant pleasure. It was sheer persistence that triumphed in the end! I am reborn a sexual Adonis creating spontaneous rituals in the darkest, closest hour of night. I am a human sacrifice to be spitted upon the burning altar of her sexual desire. Stuff the apple in my mouth and turn me over, let the smell of my singed meat be an acceptable sacrifice to you my dearest patroness. I will summon a great electrical storm and delay the quivering thunder. Pour me out on the ground at your feet and watch me wallow into my mother the earth with all the latency of human desire- the last pilgrim on the final journey.
I got laid! I got laid! I got laid! I got laid!
God I love this fickle-hearted, cruel-step dance of fate! There isn't enough music in the history of the world to capture my emotions soaring into bursted cloud-dreams of luxuriant pleasure. It was sheer persistence that triumphed in the end! I am reborn a sexual Adonis creating spontaneous rituals in the darkest, closest hour of night. I am a human sacrifice to be spitted upon the burning altar of her sexual desire. Stuff the apple in my mouth and turn me over, let the smell of my singed meat be an acceptable sacrifice to you my dearest patroness. I will summon a great electrical storm and delay the quivering thunder. Pour me out on the ground at your feet and watch me wallow into my mother the earth with all the latency of human desire- the last pilgrim on the final journey.
I got laid! I got laid! I got laid! I got laid!