I watched the sunlight stream across your room, tickling the shadows,
brushing against the stillness of your slumber. I watched a smile slightly
turn your mouth, your breathing became lighter, your fingers twitched. I
watched you languishing in a dream, my eyes blanketing your skin, your
rhythmic rest. I watched you, my heart pounding a song for you, your
magnitude. I watched you, my love, enchanted by your repose, extolling your virtues.
These yielding thighs, adulatory and comely
And buxom lips, surfeit and luscious
My tongue entwining pleasures
Your succulent fricatives bursting
a resounding chamber
flesh and flushed
And swollen by amplified tip
The puckered small, soft-fluttered
and well indulged
The nights remain illustrious
Like the rugged secrets of your artistry
A thousand blackberry iphone buzzes gather like a hailstorm while celebratory chimes ring incessantly in my hospitalized ears. For three days I bend and shake inside tent tie-backed clothes to break wicked fever spells on a mechanical moving mattress. In a dream in the early dawn hours, von-Scholtz is holding my newborn daughter up to his face, so proud for her to be born. He kisses her lips and closes his eyes. I see that she has fairest hair and blue eyes. He adores her. This only makes me think I need to invest at least of half of my time to translating her new nuances.
You explained to me that I was umbrageous
And that you had a yen pour la dilettante,
Including insightful motifs you
Preferred to toss around,
Held under your breath.
I may have seen you realize,
The melee of your tidings,
Illusory idealistic and colossal in dynamism.
Think no more of me puerile and punk comely,
And fuck me with mesmeric idioms.
That I know you poetize without ire,
Unzipping discreet patinas.