My middle fingers inside you,
Massage oil on my other hand,
Rubbing me.
The gyrating is in unison,
The noise you make,
a thousand birds chirping inside mount Kenya forest
Heavenly!
There’s no greater feeling
this abandonment of norms.
Tuned into the imaginations of our minds.
Seeking pleasure.
Yet, here you are,
But I cannot have you.
A dormant fountain comes alive
from you
Irrigating the cotton spread
Spasms of goodness
A second, follows, from me
A sudden coloring of your thighs
Is it white, yellow or cream?
Anyways, it fits with a brown background
Nipples disappear,
Behind the bronze facade,
Shy to the new knowledge
Everywhere is soggy.
We speak of our past encounters.
Memories of flesh lusting for flesh.
I want to be sad now
Am not used to happiness,
Play me, crying game by Nicki Minaj
Better still, heard them say, by Kanye West.
I’m not used to happiness
Tell me sad stories.
