Looking Through Stained Glass

Afterglow Questions...

Who is it?

That’s able to completely obliterate all sensibility
With such a high rate of speed that I miss it not
As I pond in a hot spring of need
And geysers into a sexuality that probes
The vast nether regions of my fantasy

Where was it?

At the outdoor café?
That the sound of your deep tenor
The tone that wove through
The labyrinth of conversations
And laid assault my ear canal
The flowing honey from the hive
Laying its thickened sweetness
Upon the sudden onset of pachynsis
That lends in the quickening of my breath
And the arching of my back
In an open note of invitation

How could it?

Become so damned overwhelmed
To let my body overflow
From the trip-wire of your words
In an unspoken command
To tempt fate and drift with the currents
Of erotic enticement

Why does it?

Feel like the perfect home
For the buzzing you have caused
Within the parting of my lips
Your fingers flutter in a spot as
You lip read and sign in a language
Only my inner heat can translate

When did it?

Run so completely rampart
Within the expansive bend of my imagination
That only the syncopated rhythm
Of white hot steel melting
Within the inner sanctum
Of slickened liquid velvet walls
Will satiate the reality check
I don’t recognize the sound of my own voice
As I respond with my own honeyed whispers,

What is it?

The time you’ll be coming – over

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© 2005 Raivenne (All rights reserved)

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