To touch, feel the wetness that beckoning me closer.
Perhaps this lust is result of your secretly unbuttoning
The stickiness, obedience of their rule
Your fallen blouse reviling my worries.
Spilling over into our nectar
Bombs drop right out side as they mine the whole.
God was a French monk , when he walked out of the jungle
Without hesitation straight over to her beneath the neon sing “Big AL’S hot dogs”
He blessed, embraced her, admits the smell of decay, he loved her.
Baked by the clouds of sunless days, she fell upon the ground
Her face covered in the red dirt, in his eyes the hunger truly a blessing.
She knew she was still alive, still alive
She kissed his feet.
Did you see?
His feet , he had a hole clean through each and golden were the wings of his calves.
Listen bombs fall on highway one, surely palms by now block the way
No turning back now, as forward all the bridges burn slowly at dusk.
Headlong straight into the heart of the Romance of Death, deep into a Southern Jungle, on our way home , to hell
A Sleep among the lilies
Your dress cascading over your white thigh’s as you slept in the openness of the morning sun sweetly kissing the honey dew of the flowers alive, your golden hair sweeping across your hidden face as to save you from my view.
The birds sang as you stirred at my easing of your pink silk panties from your ankles.
Your lips so sweet I have to steal one kiss before I reach for your nectar, before I reach in to feel the wetness that now beckons me closer, the way your thigh’s open slightly as if just to tease me with their hidden treasure’s
I think it is the way your hand secretly unbuttoned your blouse.