SeleneWard

Sexologist by Antonomasia I have called you again. Prisoner of the fleshiness of your thighs. Listening to you erect the mythical morbidity of this goat entity. Weightlessness drags me into the labyrinth. More like an addict, free fall takes me to the center of the earth and I wish to continue towards the incorporeal abyss.. I envision licking the amphora that redeems this stagnant thirst. Do you think that in your hands eating the seaweed who dive into lust? Can I escape the nocturnal larva that perfumes you? Why turn on the light in front of those fleeting star smiles? Because you perceive me as shipwrecked on the dream island, you subjugate my phallic ego.. Will dementia dampen my abstinence? Oh how poisonous are the darts of your oblivion! From those golden breasts I only drink now, melancholy.

Although you anointed the threshold and ensalivated could not penetrate, licked and soft, not even sail such a vast ship, for its volume as well as for its ballast. My caution mocked and in contrast -liniments, modesty or care- with tiny forgotten annals Suddenly and without warning you entered. Never more tolerance or welcome she will find in me so secretive inert that invites antipodean pleasures and in symmetric rigors it is reversed: death that is part of life. Life that is part of death.

When I lifted your red perfumed skirts, like a rose, your face was a laugh; your black eyes were blacker and softer, The entire aroma of your body was lit. And about the madness of the summer moment Your warm hair blinded your eyes. A pout of annoyance curled your lip and you showed your luminous Chinese teeth.. The reproach never had warmth or bitterness, You gave yourself everything just because, because you wanted to, and the roses burned from your garden with the sun They adorned your fatigue with a golden fragrance. When I lifted your perfumed skirts red, like a rose, your face was a laugh; your black eyes were blacker and softer, The entire aroma of your body was lit. And about the madness of the summer moment Your warm hair blinded your eyes. A pout of annoyance curled your lip and you showed your luminous Chinese teeth.. The reproach never had warmth or bitterness, you gave yourself everything just because, because you wanted to, and the roses burned from your garden with the sun They adorned your fatigue with a golden fragrance.