Kiss & Tell Poem by Butch Decatoria

He conjures conscience
The constable of contrived control
A pontiff in pools of dogma
commanding total touch, demanding slow rolls

Lovers' pedigree among shadow-figures
posing in folds of unfocused pitch
he is the flush
I am the flurry
isotopes fashioned for synergy's
ping-pong pleasing poetry
in the noise of the itch
Rebukes sensibility for physicality
Quite in a hurry to get hitched

He brings compassion
as if it were the last remedy
in this reluctant relish
our satin satire
Fires we swell, swirl, swish
somehow within we understand
kindled by this kink
kissed by kismet's lending lure
I am the murky ink, new
To their silent intentions
he is the pure,
Was it mentioned
Cat will purr when sure of nip

He stirs manx and mesh
a mint-tingle on my flesh
an open oyster
which offers a pearl
with its whole entire shell
He's blue, blush & world
I am his kiss and tell