If I could compare it,
It would be like kerosene to a flame, combusting when mixed.
A Fourth of July spectacle,
As bodies collide to thunderous applause,
And all the colors expand in the clash,
Like an explosion of blooming flowers,
Scented with our filth and sweat.
If I could describe it,
It would be carnal, unmentionably visceral.
How the grip of hair pulled back causes such sounds,
And pools of waves crash from your shore to the boat mast,
Begging me to come to sea and ride in your tropical waters.
We are a storm,
Fronts mixed until the twisting begins,
And like a cyclone, this room becomes ground zero.
Broken lamp shades, decimated sheets,
Bed frames torqued and twisted.
We are animals of nature, driven by a need,
Like an addict’s itch to scratch beyond the surface.
If I could, I would bottle it like a Red Bull,
Sell it to give others a taste of your wings,
Intertwined with the notes of my demonic horns,
Rooted with ginger and a splash of lemon,
And all the dopamine a depressed person should need.
It is that good, and you are a drug I could never quit.
A kiss upon the peach flesh,
Or tender lips, with just a hint of mint.
🌶️ADULTS ONLY 🌶️🌶️ piece came to me from a dream, this is my way of trying to describe the dream.
