May I Speak?

May I speak?

 

This poem… is Sex.

These words… are Sex.

 

Each syntactic organization a new position,

And each repetition a sign that what I’m doing is right. 

 

Hold on to my tongue with every sound wave you hear.

 

Let each syllable

Kiss your breast

And tickle your skin. 

 

Let my whispers whiff across your skin,

 

And let my SCREAMS bring you back to earth again.

 

From the breath in my lungs,

Let passion rise up and create movement,

Undulating and vibrating, sine waves

That extend and enter

Providing sweet, sweet nectar

For the soul, making you moan with pleasure,

And with every motion,

From lip to lip,

From tongue to cheek,

The tension builds up

And it makes your body writhe and wiggle until

The climax!

 

The punctuation.

The cease of a pleasure so grand.

That you can’t wait until you get to hear it again.