Turon

Atavistic urges resurface...
those ancient aching memories
that ride a DNA subway
through the veins of my brain
tell me someone else once thought these same thoughts
and felt this same lust
thousands of years ago,
while their tongue traced circles
across the magnified terrain of your breast
lost in a sweet stupor
and our bodies strained to cross the distance
the untold miles between our lonely electrons
where love defies death....

the purple pink sunset is wrapped in those silken folds
and my consciousness drifts, trapped in nectars
where men forget they've died,
trying to be born backwards,
to share pulsing flesh,
forgive me, Lord,
for i am sin and
no greater gift can draw me in

You're not sure if it's really my voice
or your imagination talking
and no one else can hear me
across the webs of time
and strings of space...
so i'll sign this with a kiss
and you'll feel my words burn warm
in your centre

Poetry on this page is copyrighted by the author. Do not copy and use this page or poetry on any other page or site, for whatever reason, WITHOUT the expressed permission of the author. Write a DETAILED email to them if you want to use it.