You couldn’t have been more right
when you told me your hard cock was beautiful.
yeah, what she says…
some day my chance will cum…
we are everything in between…
Your hands are wonderful, especially when their holding brings forth such
honeysuckle… sucking… goodness.
That I might be muse for such outpourings baffles me.
The certainty that I might be something more than less still eludes me
like insights newly born and swaddled in words still half-formed.
That you might allow me as witness to speak on our behalf, here
illuminates my shortcomings
as scribe to all that is profound and simple.
(There, I see it: your back swathed in silence.)
We are never more than what the other decides
and yet, we remain always as whispers,
as Pleasure that cannot keep a secret for long
and so, we are compelled.
In this mystery, I see you.
In this, we are met.
And so, are we lost.