Dark Hole
Dungeon
In the
mess of morning light
Gone the
smooth dark of night
Naked
urge and orgasm attraction
It’s
always so simple in the sound of the decibel
The
higher it is, no thinking required
Ask for
another and inhibitions are mired
All she
seeks is to be squired
This
minute she doesn’t care if she’s Mrs or Miss, only to be desired
Temperature
rises and there’s cross wires
It gives
freedom to aspires
Dark
tunnel where identification’s reality
It feels
good when decadence becomes sexuality
There’ll
be no regret from this idyllic plane
All are
wet, with happy exhaustion and no names
She
wonders if he was the first or the third
He sees
her look over, and wonders about her clover
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