Far from my sight i saw a figure,
Eight it was not one.
Closer i moved,
Moving my pace towards her ways.
Her smile she passed,
Soon we engaged in words,
Time ticked, , we are on the dance floor,
Moving and rocking me all sonorously,
Like the breeze of a strong wind.
She swaved and touched,
Yet her hands never stopped,
Her fingers i could sense all over me,
Like a signal from a mast down into my manless spine.
A feeling i really wish to resist,
But the potency i couldn't fight,
Moulding the whole of me into my buttomless gut,
Indeed, she got my love language.
Lay me down and let's pray,
You on top and I beneath,
Take my hand and save my soul.
Her touch was poisonous to my inner self,
But i never wanted it to stop.
A love poison it seemed to my hormones,
But then i realized, that for every touch of a lady,
They are gods to men.
TEE-THOMAS (Fearless Lines)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem