as our lips make love, my tongue searches for that sweet taste that has long escaped our occasional sensual sparring. my mouth catches that breath that used to breathe and chase mine whenever they meet.
as our lips make love in the highly constructed world of my subconscious, i feel the steam of my repressed desires rise in response with yours, forming cumulonimbus clouds of lust and passion. my hands reach for yours to trace the continuously sketching lines on your palms and to feel the throbbing of your heart through your veins.
as our lips perform the circus act of locking and unlocking, the pulsating visions of the past and the distant future floods my mind. i am seeing visions of union, you and me as one sexual entity that shouts boldness and screams passion.
years have passed but the immortality of your presence is once again dominating my senses.
as our lips are slowly gaining back their spiritual connection, our bodies are being shrouded by the impression that nothing can stop this seemingly perpetual state of bliss but divine intervention.
as we exhale trains of random vowels only interrupted by a beat, my body and soul are boiling with desires to possess you.
o. a. u. u. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. u. o. o. o. a. o . u.
“lizin ebribadi! jesus is the savior! jesus is the savior! no to premarital sex! no to premarital sex!”
screams the african american lady that broke the spell or morpheus. she wears a red hat and screams at the top her lungs during the early morning train ride to union station.