I

Purpose Lost in Perfection

Knees scraping cinder blocks  
rasberry skin inviting us  to  
push for more  
Mirrored effect worn thin  
Shows silver colored reflections
of a smeared smile and
runny mascara  
 
Another swig of that orange
 concoction meant to inebriate,  
drags  us to where our flesh  
meets the threshold
 
Penetration and withdrawal
 became our reason to continue
wet palms, grab muscle,  squeeze,  
 drawing us forward
 Thighs wetter,  friction released  
as you spread  wider
 
Grind, aching groin,  with the
 sounds of saturation  
Liberation discharged,  with the
 rain soaking  bone as water from  
a serrated sky touches hard,  
 rolling off in a synchronized
 dance of retreat
 
Pictures embedded into your
 chest neck and thighs needle
 dips deep with beautiful swirling  
images that capture the light
 of a half moon  
 
Rhythmn tribal rhythm bodies  
with full knowledge gaining as
 flesh slaps and slips  on into  
darkness it's purpose lost in the
 perfection of our moves  
 
Motive unnecessary, outcome  
forgotten as the beating of our  
bodies could not  
did not want to stop.
©iris3690