Pyrotechnic Sex Requiem Poem by luke holt

Ha!
We dance
Warm lapsing flesh walls
Housing wildflowers and hip moon struts


She took off her clothes in a possessed and palatable manor
Writhing like a jungle beast
She had three layers of tops on
((Flannels and undershirts))

She was conceited about it
Knew I was turned on
In the foggy lavatory I enveloped her pallid otherworldly person like a schizophrenic toddler
I swung her around like a dreaming daughter
and thrusted my restrained, denim clad hard-on into the helpless nook of her pants

Then, her c***,
Peep show,
Still enigmatic
Obscure
My arousal was cancerous and very much confused by setting
She egged me on with a chillingly provocative bark
“C’mon, come and get it”

The one kiss before the sullen, T.V. sunset was meaningless
Juicy and quite forced
No tongue
Just mute passion
It took ten thousand years for her to expose herself

I waited
With much hope