Friday, June 22, 2012

"Conscious Coitus"

"Conscious Coitus"

Knead what you need
on knees for seeds
like bath beads
from the membrane
that scatters splattered batter
across mainframes before laughter.

My thoughts are spilling.

Duck and cover.

Let me leak, then…

Let me leak then.
Find my peak with
no words to speak.
Barely mumbled.
Never humble.
Toss, topple and tumble
til snores follow grumbles.

Brains listen with ample ear lobes
to one who takes them
halfway around the globe
with the least of clothes.
Traveling free for me to see…

Far from a god but
across the sheets from deity;
immaculate injections
melt into skin
clawed so raw till pain
resembles the stars they saw.

Body parts pinned down;
so dead to rights
that you'll whisper
"Fuck Life."
Repeated deaths craved
and revisited like relapse
as you gasp.

Can't fall back on top.
Won't fall over bent over.
Survey follicles
and rove with mandibles
across the tangible.
Concrete meat meets sheets.

Blatant when discreet;
so if this isn't the preferred feat,
say "Stop" and I might go.
Think "Stop" and I'll say "No."
Mind and mouth fed.

Head full from what
emerges from the cranium.
Cranium on E like
happy candy and epilepsy
with side effects like
dry mouth and damp panties.

Envied by those
who befriend me
before they see
their fair ladies
fawn over daydreams
of their flagrant foul fantasy
involving "He" or me;

But I'm selective with my friendly.
I see your shimmy
and thickness desired.
Desired by the skinny.
Thigh plans and ass interpretations.

Never thirsty but
I appreciate the great lake:
Moisture assured from words
you may have read or heard
too absurd to hide
quivers and shakes.

Not ready to recall.
Still enjoying the free fall:
Waist follows.
Face first.
Doing my very best worst
to make more than the voice burst.

We shine in the center of a shrine:
Hapless artwork
bred of short skirts
and torn shirts.
Followed a flirt.
Forgot mourning.
Good Morning.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

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