I call it- a midnight starring
I call it- an early morning glory on the eve of work
I call it -a small space between the car seats at 1’oclock lunchtime
It is an ancient poem
of two artists
engaging across a million years of religion
Transcending physicality
towards something without words
Where two souls will complement
Each other
Again
And again.
Nothing else will matter.
My right hand on your left breast
My left hand on your back.
My head and tongue-simply everywhere!
The heavy breathing, The clumsiness,
The old man next door watching TV- screaming at the Kaizer chief’s players on derby day (we laugh).
Your R120 new nails digging my ass-
One and a half centimetres worth of pain which is pleasure.
the sloshing sounds of flesh and fluid
paying homage
to a very old song that has withstood the test of time
A hymn really
On the ear, on my mic
It’s beautiful. I call it moaning.
©prince_sbu
P