The War We Make (Part II)

Between her screams and my roars, we lose time entranced as I retrace the design of her body while these mouthfuls of DNA spill to the floor. Those lips I kiss as we build stadiums to gods through the whole of our embrace. She squeezes me as though we’re at war. Her eyes close seconds after rolling back as if they are on wheels without brakes. Her fists clamped like a vice while she throws her body like its possessed. Oh my, I’m in a moment of unbelief as if watching myself in the third person, mouth open, watering like a faucet whose off switch no longer works. Damn, intimate seduction, I’m so consumed in this play that I feel almost numb until this oomph jets from her like the throw of a major league pitcher

Her beautiful frame is limp in limbo as I have my way with it. Nothing can extinguish this mood as we destroy time and even in the middle of this climax, our flow softens but is enraged by the animal nature between these forces that will not give in. Those damn neighbors, who are they to bang on these walls as if they own them? Who are they to come between the primal philosophies of intimate thirst? I roar as if standing on a cliff arching my back to let off a sound that will carry for miles, she pours like a stream, running through solid rock to find a resting place above the clouds. Her plateau is forgotten as those beautiful fingertips drive deeper into my skin leaving scars that will never heal. If this is the new normal, then I await the morning for its sacred arrival.


9 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All