In Lust We Trust

 
 
 
 
I ache for you in the ancient evening.
Prowling tigers, howling prairies,
harried grieving,
call with rhymed refrain.
In iron chains,
ravaged saints.
Flagellation
in restraints.
Swords. Fierce flame.
Sorceries.
Oh my!  They pierce, core to knees.
Omygoddess,
Yes!  Bless me Suns and Moons
and Stars.
Burning, CrispnSmoky,
anguished tongue to tease.
Honey provokes. Amorous
buzzing bees
emit pleasure as we please.
Tactile transubstantiation.
Erupt sublimation.
Crest of desire.
Obsessive stimulation.
I’m on fire
for you
(boop boop be doo)
.
.
.
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