To
imagine your face, pushing towards triumphs, a tongue as glib as moonshine; as
to die in presence, the voice of falcons, as eager with a lion’s head; to want
for coitus, this land of make-believe, this internal reality; where positions
clash, for two as animals, that further from legitimacy.
We
broke for laws, to feel this something, this invisible something; to carry such
lies, where cuffs are immortal, a harp as a heartbeat; to flex something
foreign, this woman as a jewel, this four-part attraction; as such deception,
embodied in truths, as fatal as point-blank-range.
It’s
a night of limos,
the
richest champagne, infused by articulated words; this fall of moments, as
grieved to perish,
to
love in spite of losing; for oh this lose, as feral as orgasms, as heightened
as a climate,
as
fevered as sin; to know for flux, this lux of energy, to scream as to offend an
office;
where
words screech, while senses murmur—a body filled with vibrations.
It
becomes a high, with palms drenched in myrrh—our colored matrimony; as to avoid
values, as charmed by sycamore, as peering into flushing flesh.
It’s
our bowels of love, as our nethermost regions—a silhouette of castles; to
muscle attraction, our footprints upon clouds, our torrent devastating lives.
It
became a song, dripping in hormones—the estrogen of emotions; as found in both,
sorting through symbols, to live this magnificent lie:
our inners as vocals; our loins as children;
our knots as geishas.
It’s
oh so fulgent, this radiant chaos, where secrets have become myth; to smell for
flavor, a household of gumbo, to fall and swivet into a climax.
We
love it more, this nostalgic angst,
pretending
our end has come; to suit for others, but a moment in passing, to reunite
filled with heartache;
but
we mustn’t perish, this bed of strangers—this Incredible Hulk;
if
merely a thought, this garlic for vampires—our inner masquerades;
as
deep an antenna, this voiceprint of senators, this thrust towards presidency;
as living for turmoil, a fireside of passions, a trumpet as a last goodbye;
to
know for guile, this trial of souls, as creating such folklore.
