When efforts to suppress desire come to no avail, we can set sail to a place where there are no need for veils, only thrills of electrically charged bodies scaling mountains of pleasure and tongues savouring tastes as varied as the colours of the rainbow. A prize to my eyes it would be to absorb the fiery hue of your caramel skin as it radiates your internal inferno, your volcano as it signals that it’s ready to blow.
Just like not everyone is ready for the love of God, not every woman is ready for mine. It’s impossible to appreciate that which is divine with hands soiled by love crimes. Idols may satisfy, but only for a while. For an eternity, hearts shall grind. © May 2014 Kelvin S. Pompey