The flesh is a mere gateway. A doorway to pleasure. A medium by which worship and devotion are made tangible. A lash of the whip binds the mind to the flesh, that lance of pain bled exctasy binds mind to mind. A moment forever frozen in memory. The tracing of a scar line evoking love and care, devotion and pleasure. All from a simple mark of flesh. Flesh is a mere gateway, but a gateway to the mind, eternal.
flesh
Every moment of every day
desire for you consumes,
a flame bitter and cold,
need raging across nerve endings,
need for your touch, your voice, your words,
crawl to me,
rest your head on my thigh,
taste your mouth,
teasing your body,
looking into your eyes, kindling flame,
in pleasures ragged and painful, hold you to me,
my hands and tongue exploring every inch,
knowing and needing,
your soft whimpers,
the feel of your body around mine,
tight with desire,
scream startling neighbors,
make you mine,
again and again until we dissolve in pools of sweat,
never stop making love to you, even when our bodies fail us,
whisper my desires, future plans,
taut with greed for you,
all that you are,
there is nothing of you I do not worship,
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Pointless
I’m tired of this pointless rut carried out in words. This diversion, this flirtation leading to nothing but inflamed thoughts. I’ve spent years in service to the pleasures of the flesh. Easy now to recount, to regale, but without you near what purpose? I’m right back to that jaded point where I am weary of the pleasure centered on cock and cunt. Explore with me the sensation of touch but leave off those. Too easy, too simple. Explore pain and music, sound and sensation. Taste, pressure. Speak of art and philosophy. Weave with me a story. Ascend past the barrier of flesh into resonant wavelengths. Dance and sing, give voice to the internal monologue, let me hear your every thought as you think it. I want more than the pleasure of simple desire. Give me complexity, conundrum and puzzle.
Pelgris 