More than half of the time you don't know what you're doing.
But you do it anyway.
Its as if an invisible rope is pulling you
towards something infinite
and you love the marks
that rope leaves on your body.
You like that sweet pain.
You are hesitant and
a lil resistant at first
and then, you let go.
It's like paragliding,
the adrenaline rush every look and every touch gives you.
Its as unbelievable as God,
  as unbelievable as Satan.
It's an endless sea of emotions,
You can swim, or you can drown.
Its a rough,  craggy, bumpy road
which bifurcates,
and you are blindfolded.
So choosing your path is not an option.
You go where your destiny takes you.
That becomes your destination.
But the best thing is,
it makes you happy,
everything about it.
It makes you realize
what you're capable of,
how much you can make someone feel special.
You know yourself better with each passing moment.
One can't ask for more, right?

i watch
vaporous uncoilings
elegantly exit
my oral
lungs breaking
the winds
soft grimace
as every second
bifurcates over
the striding grandeur
of that shining moment
when your ruby
lips shimmer
their electric
whisper over my
fleshy little
pink pushings

from the tiny melody of your hips
sp
    r
         ou
                    t
                           s)
the symphony of your waist licks the air
as each stride bifurcates the clean summer heat
feet snapping a flip-flop symphony. crunch the petals
and drip into my apex. stubbornly beautiful
you are sharp and green. a perfect thorn. towering
precisely with ******* freckled softly with my lips.

                    what divinity smiled this

upon my skin. you.
                                            ;
i drink your breath and taste your heart. exactly.
        the puckish rhythm of your thighs
is pulsing steady and unbearably. nerves all stumbling
electricly tingle to the deft razor of your nails. i       was
       a  
                    m
                    a
                    ­ n.   but now merely,               a

This was not physical.
Which part of your psyche,
I would touch?

Sometimes you swing
without a rope. A chasm
appears, then vanishes.

Blindfolded you open
a death door to see the fall.
The deep pain bifurcates.

The distance was increasing
between clouds. A crack
of light burns the dark. Animals
awake.

You remember a yawn
of cosmos. Someone becomes a fever,
high as sun, in earthen heart.