You break me—now, remake
me. I am not real
Until
you subjugate me, and I feel
Your
cock’s hot heart slice through me, now—you flex
Your
loins, my back beneath your abs, your pecs,
Burns,
sweats, now—Now—the Paradise you plow.
My now-fragmented praise. But young John Keats
Expressed
it best: You have me—now—in thrall...
Beauty
is youth, youth beauty. —That is all
We
know on earth, and all we need to—Now—
6 comments:
Beautiful, well written with very classy pictures.
Love this sexy poem.
The pictures were just the icing on the cake to such a beautiful written poem.
I thought this is such a moving poem.
I considered "Ode on a Grecian" for the title. The poem references Keats's ode, and "Grecian" was 19th-century slang for "gay."
The beginning of my poem was suggested by John Donne's Holy Sonnet, "Batter my Heart, Three-Personed God" -- completely different from the great 19th-century Romantic whose verse and sensibility dominate the final lines.
John Keats, "La Belle Dame sans Merci":
They cried, "la belle Dame sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!"
John Keats, "Ode on a Grecian Urn":
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty. -- That is all
'Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'
These things inhabit us.
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