Flesh of Word


No light or dark.

In the field of nothingness…only dragons un-slayed.

Plunging limbs of thought…tell me,

‘stoned walls’ corral without release…temptress choreographs with open deceit.

Amidst slender gestures that wrap my decadence around her fingers

…release, release, release.

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Only a bosom for my crib.

Delicate as a bed of silence…movement, no sound.

Only flesh of word allow the urge to leave.

In the light or dark.

There are sensual curves in the open crevices.

Captured, they and I, continue on with our battle…erotic…forbidden attacks.

Light early morn.

Dark late dawn.

With walls crumbling and bearings not straight.

Never is conflict finished.

Only flesh of word allow the urge to leave.

 

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