Why does it feel immersive, that is in words and thought to feel like a visceral charge has quickened me?
Pain, love, lustful addiction...all of these things compose me.
Wanton desire, the feel of your touch, turns me into a fool, your fool.
Touch me, feel me, pierce me like your god....dedicate my madness to the masses.
Water and wine, vodka and brine, what are these to a pock marked soul
Close your legs and open my mind, slay me, impregnate me with your goodness
YOU ARE READING
Essence of Living
PoetryA collection of poetry, that comes from nothing, and most likely will return to nothing.
