Thoughts
                 to words
Words
                 to actions
Actions
                 to habits

And oh, what a habit.
The philosophy of the fuck is
Guerrilla gametes.
My caress won't belie that I'm playing rough.

Sounds
                   to echoes
Visions
                   to memories
Sensations
                   to associations

Your body betrays you from the inside out
With every moment of this, our
Neurochemical bondage;
Every climax an oxytocin Ephialtes,
A dopamine deceiver at your Hot Gates.

And I swear those three little words
Will never pass my lips,
But as I trace them on your clit
They'll always be on the tip of my tongue.

                   Molon labe--
                 And oh, honey.
                       I will.

06/25/2009

Posted on 06/25/2009
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