devil's in the details

I miss not having you here - here beside me. Here when I want to just take your clothes off and have you pose in some form of delicate decadence or vulgar beauty . To just have you here to TAKE. Take your holy whore into my mouth and soak my tongue in the boldness of your lewd desires. Oh to take the whore you are and the madness that you long to taste, and for which I so anticipate to put into fruition.

The years of bland unfeeling soon to be ejected wholesale off the edge of cliffs and then to ne'er reclaim the peaceful regularity of day 'pon day, 'pon week, month, year, 'pon years. And then you view them from the precipice upon which you soon may stand and see the simple beauty that they were and werent.


But now life's edge is sharper, leaner, hotter, more intense, and thoughts of freedom call your heart and soul and sex and mind and all the passion's blended there with love as though it all were one. Oh, you pray the love will hold the pitching pieces of your life within some sense of safe rotation as your freedom calls out let the particles just splatter where they someday somewhere someway may just land.

Audacious days are ticking quickly toward the calenders last calls - the chance to sing this crazy song cant last. And tho the urge to sanctify the beauty is as urgent as the call to just defile the precious, cherished jewel, the paths of life they take you where you have no choice, no chance, no voice. You dance the shackles off your wrists and into beds and baths and days of lust and charms and lies and sunshine days and bitter tear filled nights. Ahh, freedom call me now? Or leave me to my world as yet untouched by sins and torments cold?