seeping beauty

there are the fables where you are queen

and i am yours for the taking



scenarios where thunderbolts clap

over a scene of raw carnal pleasure

and you of course

are the pleasure



there is contrived dialog and innuendoes

that lead one astray

in the wonderful world of wandering

where words are the gibberish of release

and sweet nothings are priceless



there are drips from the faucet

metaphors form torrents of spasms

that seep into dreams about

your smile becoming a kiss



me at the edge of the bed with

a fulcrum that moves your world



and suddenly poetry is not words

but the movement

of your hips

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