socks and sex

delightful bubble shaped rings everywhere from the carpet burn
your carpet imprinted, embedded on my ass
and the mere, lonely thought of this
Of these bubble shaped rings from your carpet, on my ass
makes my skin crawl, blood dash from my heart to my cheeks,
and i smile...
I inhale and smile, i take you in
Your smile, the words you say so seductively
I just want to chew out of your month
Your smell which is oozing manliness is intoxicating
That i lose my breath in, I can't breathe
Because you're too orgasmic to be true,
I'm listening to your smooth voice,
it's not deep, but its smooth,
You're in command of the depth of your speech
And I, fall deep into you and the depth of your speech
And I wonder, how we've sat here in
Pure nakedness, in purity of soul, spirit, mind, body
and then you touch me, forefinger to knee
Trace the invisible line round to my ass,
To feel the bubble shaped rings of your carpet, on my ass
I shiver, shudder, smile, giggle,
And the butterflies in my stomach
scatter down to my vagina,
hot wet mess.

I don't want to, I really don't want to
But I can't breathe
And I have to exhale,
And when I exhale,
and this moment is gone
I'm on the floor alone, and you've gone
You left me again...
i'm with my hot wet mess alone.
I could touch myself,
But the image of you and her...
your bodies intertwined
the rhythmic ebbs and flows
of your penis and her vagina
Clashing together, the electricity, spark, fire
Hot, wet, mess
and your inhaling one another
You love each other
Your parts made to fit each other,
And the image won't leave,
Instead, like a cartoon thought bubble
A new bubble embedded, imprinted in my head,
Pops, flashes, reappears
And in rhythm to your sex
Pangs of pain in my chest
I wish I could rip the two of you apart
Or at least try, die from the electrocution
Of the electricity of your sex

I inhale, and there you are,
back on the carpeted floor with me
Naked, inhaling me...
Won't you have sex with me?
Because although that floor moment has past
I sometimes feel you in close proximity
There's no her or her perfect-fitting-vagina
There's just me and just you
In pure purity, inhaling me, inhaling you.
Isn't this sex? Hot, wet, untouched mess?

I feel you in my bed, I feel you feeling my cold feet
which you knowingly tease me about
You hate feet,
Insanity has set, hot wet mess and also
an imaginary talking and teasing pet, I feel in my bed.

NZ. today.