duets with other poets – abichica


last touch 

“…something is there
within in the deep
but whose childe it is
we do not yet know…”
-Lao Tzu

last1a

First Touch…

“I’ve never done this before”.. I whispered more to myself than to her..

and so narcissus steps into the bottomless pool once again sighing

 

“I’m glad i’m your first” She murmured..

ignorance is not bliss you are neither the first nor last to taste transgressive fruit

 

Distracted by the sound of my dress hitting the floor..

such disrobing unveils not glory but mere carnality

 

She watched me…No.. Gazed at me..

the nefesh soul loves to wrestle in the mud

 

Eyes glazed over in lust.

but we have opposable thumbs not fins

 

Pure unadulterated desire..

regression is an endless temptation

 

Taking everything in as if in a trance..

losing myself in a can some pr man called earthquake

 

As if I’m the sexiest vixen alive..

but you are not because opposites restore equality

 

She sat quietly as I took off every stitch of clothing.

and now we submerged ourselves in pathetic pornography

 

Letting them fall one by one..

where is that can of an earthquake we prefer to this

 

Exposing myself to her hungry stare..

we used not to call this satan now we call it boring

 

Until I stood in front of her with just my heels..

oh so now our hooves are our horns our primitive urges

 

As she strolled towards me..

it is impossible to danse with two left feet

 

Prowled more like

the ruach soul is not a panther

 

Focused, sexy and confident..

rather just hungry so lacking compassion

 

Like a panther stalking it’s prey..

exactly lilith seeking whomever she may devour

 

Ready for the take down..

satan’s mistress will ultimately be taken down

 

A slight shiver of anticipation runs though my body..

 

my neshamah if it was lacking compassion would be boring me

 

As she stops in front of me she ran her hands over me..

too bad for you prefer intoxity to reality

 

Leaving goose bumps trailing behind her caress..

oh my goddess…you are lost in the deep throat of pornography

 

Starting at the nape of my neck..

working her way down into something not poetry

 

Down my arms..

into an unfertile crotch

 

Touching the side of my breast..

where a child is supposed to suckle

 

Barely grazing my nipples..

men have nipples too

 

“So beautiful” She said sounding amazed.

there is no tempting darkness greater than unfamiliarity

 

“Am I really all she says i am”

yep you can be a  slug in the mud if you must

 

my mind starts to wonder…

excuse me  you are as mindless as a snail says the raven

 

She moves her hands down my waist..

was it not the bard that said such a waist is a waste of shame

 

Grabbing my butt and squeezing roughly..

sadistically masochistically regressively

 

Moaning deep in her throat before her soft perfect lips

one slips not into vertuoisty but mendacity

 

crashed down on mine…

crashing is not uplifting nor exulting

 

All thought dissipated…

yes you found the bottom of brutality

 

All that mattered was this feeling.

and your chayyah evaporating into stupidity

 

This moment..

 

celebrating such narcissism

 abichica1

 

humanity abandons dry land and extinction returns

 

abichica https://chicpress.wordpress.com/2014/07/30/first-touch/

 

chrétien marc valentin

(© 2 août 2014)

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This entry was posted in Poetry, The Living Logos, The Path of the Sacred Warrior and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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