Fornicating Emotion As I
Position my dick in the twists and turns
And guilty curves that discern into your being
Foreseeing nothing
But orgasmic pleasures
In three-letter formats
No longer am I the doormat
Nor shall I remain that dork that became dormant
But shall reign enormous
With fornication
Over the sordid nature of my emotions
No longer will I be the literal
Monosyllabic sex slave
A toy for the sheer joys
Of sheer pantyhose,
Powdered nose,
Brown toned lustings
Mistrusting in falsified feelings
Forsaking feeling
For sake of squealing in moonlight sonatas
Of cannibalistic
Vaginal smorgasboards...
Forlorned was I,
for I was not,
I couldn't be because I couldn't breathe
Suffocated by the lover's phrases:
"Be mine..."
"You're mine..."
Your mind becoming trapped in lucid conversations
With no one within earshot to hear
But fear not,
Because once the steady humping of the poor boy's heart
has reached full swing
And climax ensues,
Take comfort in knowing:
He will laugh last...
That past intervention between things unmentioned
Feeling redemption
Tearful obesession
All have discontinued,
Not indefinitely...
But in "definitely",
for sin's greatest divinity
Is knowing that you have control over your emotions...
Thus, words unspoken
Remain screamed at muted volumes
To involve you would be unfair
But to dissolve from you would be too easy
Wherein lies the gray area?
Say nothing...
Refrain from speaking what you think is there and not knowing
Victory will be yours as you take erotic
Tantric emissions
And witnessing emotions squirm
Under forced gasps of squalid night air
As sets of empirical sex cut the atmosphere,
Finally it is I
Who will come last...
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