when I suddenly feel the urgency,
I’m going to risk it all,
I’m wanting to bring you with me,
for that second my inspiration will say,
I will want you,
in the fleeting aspiration
of a hot summer night,
I’ll sacrifice everything to hold you in my arms,
to feel your skin touch my own, under the moon.
When we needed no prompts
accept the pleasure of real,
while all around the humanity
of our day,
continued to be on display.
When ripping your clothes off
created a chuckle of passionate embrace,
when the skin we caressed became heated
in a delicious manner toward reaching that nirvana
we thought about all day until now.
While the world outside continued
with routine ambiance, in here
we began an exploration with tongues and hands,
wet with desire, gasps to instruct us,
time was our own body playful in release.
Then suddenly eyes,
always in the middle of love-making,
that moment, when after strength and urgency
found her every region,
she would turn to me and plead.
In my own agony toward a pleasure’s moment,
I would search inside,
find a way to allow her own confidence
to know what we are about to do,
is truly beautiful in innocence, perilous in mind.
Young stars at our own game,
each of us trying to better the other hand,
to reach a climax might be too soon,
perhaps always an opportunity,
certainly never too late – she does writhe.
Want, this day to last forever,
as now arching our backs in unison,
we feel an internal explosion, a standard,
we come to anticipate,
yet each time we’re led breathless in release.
To share love with you as real as the moment we piece
together in our minds, surely offers a delightful peace.
Respond in beauty inherent an elegant glance
waltz through a room with pure innocence.
A pleat lives in fury as in winds take a chance
her external peace, her mystique felt whence
She would stroll past my eyes on this night
She hasn’t seen me though perhaps she does
always recognize that in some way she might
breathe azure, a hummingbird has sweet buzz
When found in repose on a hot summer day.
I would capture the moment of pure delight
to know her beauty is omniscient in some way.
I would begin to know a sensuality in her light.
Taps upon my heart, smitten need a dancer’s dove
coo to her reminiscent glide in paths of love.
Across the skies we see miles of windows,
Buildings stretch as far as we can see,
Yet we can only imagine the activity in those
Windows contain secrets beyond thee.
I suppose she might be clinging to a cubicle
While he bangs her silly in the afternoon
Sunlight, while the rest of the office dutiful
Looks beyond, whistling their simple tune.
Imagine all the board room tables, cherry wood
Sprawled across her legs open his face
Buried inside a tongue fast moving while his wood
Awaits her mouth, working with such haste.
Oh, and the elevators across the city wide active
With the treatment of quickies and soft fuck,
The sort that when you hear about you just live
To have the opportunity one day to be stuck.
On the street corner she waves her hands at him,
A room upstairs with stench and just a bed
He wonders if today might be the day to act a whim
Not realizing in a minute his world might be dead.
The morning skies began to blur as the first plane hit
We all wondered on the morning news the act
Of a misguided pilot until just then another jet split
Through the upper floors to begin a scene chaotic.
We all have this common thread of lust run trough our veins,
Not knowing beyond his cumshot, her climax, their orgasm,
What lies ahead beyond our immediate need remains
In ignorance as the world collapse slow toward a chasm …
Today we glance across the sky in new windows and views
Relieved to know erotica can still exist in shadow’s ruse.
We could speak openly about our pains,
Use each other’s eyes to protect ourselves
Remember when it used to be easy to know
How far you could push me, love you?
That walk along Harmon avenue arguments
About the mail, when really had nothing to do
With anything beyond knowing we were through
Reaching the end,
The sidewalk cracks in the concrete
More important than the soul
Of the person walking in stride,
Looking straight ahead,
In both our heads,
Wondering what the words might be,
Should we just, if I, really, could we continue
Talking about the mail?