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by Laura Doom

Attraction breeds a reflex
that will flourish in repulsion
propagate in pleasure
regenerate in ritual;
a feral flower
laid bare, fleshed out,
bled dry before
its natural fruition
can be idealized.

Lend me your text
to touch and taste
to wrap around
my tongue.

Let me play
with its structure
its context
its texture.

Give me licence
to envisage your visage
inhabit your body
translate your obscenities.

See me bathe
in the fluency of nuance
and writhe
in the violence of silence.

I want to be free
to speak your mind
to quake and tremble
in the void of your lust.

I would sink a thousand myths
to swim in the spaces
between your thoughts
to drift on waters
dissolving your emotion
to slip beneath the swell
that yells semantics
in your celebrated brain.

Take me back to a future
stripped of secrets
bound by promises
ravished with reverence
where I can take you
at your word
and explore you
at my leisure.

07/25/2015

Posted on 07/25/2015
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 07/29/15 at 03:06 PM

One of my favorite subjects nicely laid out...given new life with your poetry.

Posted by Paul Lastovica on 08/01/15 at 02:20 PM

the entry and exit view of lust appears a void... a beautiful, primal void.

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