Lie back upon the Pillow, rest your eyes, while I Ruthlessly tease you.
Swallow me like a Popsicle on the hottest Night of the summer.
Of all the places I’ve spilled my seed, I love Your picnic basket.
The small of your back, Cooled by my hand, you ask me If we are alone
Clasp your palm against My quivering lips so no One hears my moaning.
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am