POEM 63: WHILE STOCK LASTS

She lay on my bed 
in my room with the door shut,
this is a stale tale
but I'll tell it, will tell it all.

I joined her in bed
Painting spoken words on her flesh...
Moans romancing the air.
Our bodies merged as one,
entwined in limbs, sweat and lips,
laboured breaths roll from our throats.

I relaxed as she press her lips to mine
whispering sweet gibberish 
that leaves me grasping for air

A smile spreads slowly across her face
As I stroked her cheek with trembling fingers
Tracing her dimples.
She smile, her lips separating in seductive curves
As she take my index finger in her mouth
Sucking as though it is as sweet as the grin 
that emblazons her face.

I sighed

Her eyes widen as she press her body against mine
biting her lower lip, 
as if the ecstasy between her thighs
were about to make her burst
Into tiny bits of enthral bliss

She sighed

I felt her desire
Mocking mine
Embracing mine
Fire!

She grabed me
craving.
It is hers now
thrusting.

But for a while

For tonight is all we've got.
Enjoy it while it last...
While you can.
For neither of you nor I,
my love,
will see forever-ever-after.

No trust
Just thrust
But for a while

Because this love is lust
Spread over a bed of thorns
Thorns that tickle
But pierce afterwards
...and until my pickle
In you spurts...
Enjoy it while stock lasts.

For before dusk meets dawn
We'll both become dust, 
trapped in the wind,
blowing through an open window 
into a room of distrust,
In a house of ego
In a city of hurt
In a world of haunting memories
for every newfound love
with anxiety.