Sunday, March 18, 2012

Lust : Obsidian


I hold the blackness smooth and deep
Its purpose clears to me at least.
I use it quietly, my need to keep
Pushed over edge, I take my feast.

So cold and hard, pleasure rises slow
The scent of lust pervades my bed
Till wanton rush, that we all know
Floods my senses, it makes me red…

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