Not yet, he wasn't entirely bare
She was, but she didn't care
Hungry, he grasped her breast
and tasted its ***** crest
The same process followed
but his ***** never subdued
Yet, today he had tears in his eyes
and down there, a warm string of ***
While she ****** and swallowed
He drank a glass of ***.

the night was hot and sticky
the kind where you don't want to be touched
guitar chords were ringing through us
my lips stayed shut

an mmm erupted from you
it crawled out of your throat
into my ears and down my spine
I'm wishing I could float

did you see the feeling in my face change?
i tried my best to stay
stone cold statue  
blood hot beside you
afraid of what you'd say

but i wanted you to touch me
right then and right there,
or even just to put your arm around me
instead of this feeling beside you here

sweat upon sweat
without feeling any heat
the tingle and the tension
our bodies surrender
under the pressure
lost of any prevention

Finally.

the last few notes leave the room pulsing,
and we are sighing.

Imagine and it begins, the mire sired from mind amok.
May have at once mattered, now the imagination is stuck.
Non-commit to all your projects, ideas strewn prettily.
In notebook crumble garland filigree.
You remember, only that you've forgot.
All work you do is nihilistically for naught.

**** that mess, darling. You are the best.
Calm be simple and be ******, indeed.
Even now you work heart pumping chest.
But happy in finishing you're not so keyed.

Back to the doldrums and foot tap astray.
Knit fury with hands excite, colour gone.

Back from the dead, dancing with blushes.
Ego bruised snide, coy imagination rushes.

I can not write.
My hands ****** in time.
I scream at pixels,
some dead in the corner.
I want to open up.  
Let it pour out as an ocean,
until overwhelming empty.
Composure must be kept,
as this is an art with structure.
The words must perform,
as dancers do before an audience.
As they read this,
it is only half of what is felt.
They can’t smell the rot,
that infects backstage.
The nagging screams,
that would make the world deaf.
Or be blinded by black,
during the bright of day.
I just want to be felt.
Release the tension,
of societies chains.
Or your chains perhaps.
They choke,
my voice,
inhibit my steps.
I want to just run.
Each send is a cry,
in a soundless megaphone.
Can I reach them?
Does this reach you?
I can’t write anymore.
Press send.
Scream.

conventional ideation of where consent ends
and timbering begins.
intertwine your lips with my thoughts and call me friend,
your edging is the cruelest of all your sins
pull my contentment by the collar and let me know i’m still alive
****** my peace like a rug beneath my feet, begging for your intervention,
your blatant apathy is not furthering my goal to survive.

Sometimes I think we’re all mere magnets
Pulling towards this, pulling away from another
Getting closer to your grandmother while fighting with your mother
Moving out to find your identity but shielded online by anonymity
I swear we’re all mere magnets
Tired of running towards our goals but happily running from boredom
Telling others we know so much but then adept to play dumb
Wanting a bigger slice of success yet unwilling to gift the beggar a crumb
Aren’t we all mere magnets?
All relationships looking for some big reward
And pulling away if our emotions become too sore
Yet, what if some weren’t really magnets but pretended to be
Could those outliers find one another and stick for eternity
So my dear, are you a magnet?

There’s a coil in me.
It likes to wind itself up.
The only thing that eases
This…
Tension…
Is these words dribbling,
Down and out of my mouth.
Babble…
Nonsense…
Not the words I’m trying to use,
Nor the meaning
I’m trying to convey.
I’m…
I’m sorry I’m this way.