For longer than a taste
– or two,
I will linger;
Lips against lips,
softly against soft.
I will linger
In eyes,
– my prison,
visions of sweetness,
of sweat, of lust;
promisings of ecstasy’s sin
to flower upon my decadent hunger.
Dance soft
– circles across my tongue,
around, across,
awakening and arousing whispers auctioned
in the throes of passions;
drink until my appetite is laid bare
for a moment or two.
Command my civility
– my shadow, my touch,
– my every secret;
into words spoken as prayer,
into words cried
in breaths of consummation.
Perfection
– as my own is wondered well,
countless times stabs and penetrates
the beast beyond the shatterings of humanity descent
into the salvation of the truth of desire.
(Tony Harmon)