Thursday, March 27, 2008

tripping the wires of desire

it becomes like a drug
the intensity of the moment

you crave it so
you need your fix

you need that explosion inside your mind
and the complete and utter surrender of your flesh

your senses become fire and consumed with the flame of desire
just one spark of the match
and you are gone
consumed by the passion
inside and out

your mouth stretching in that wide round O
not able to contain the wicked shudders shivering through your flesh
not able to contain the indescribable sound of total consuming release
the echoes continue to sound and bounce off in your mind
even after the physical sound is emptied out

until you are emptied out
like a rag doll boneless and rubbery cast aside
after the play is done

ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah

too much to be contained

and yet you crave more of this

the flesh shaped and molded into a lava white molting sun
a nova crashing
crashing your mind body and soul

until there is nothing left
but the colour
white

the whiteness of it

the whiteness of the never-ending high
it takes you days and days to come down from
the whiteness of the never-ending climax
that goes on and on and on

yes

it’s your drug
it’s your fix

and the moment is not even over

but yet
oh yet

you need the next fix

again and again and again….

***Angel ~ March 8, 2008

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