We’ll broadcast modulations baby, yeah, we’ll broadcast our bodies into that black astral ink you think divines tomorrow, and we’ll do it from the dish in your backyard, okay? We’ll advertise your energized cry to the galactic edge baby, yeah; your eyes will light fireflies in the gleam of your skin steaming sweet release, and you know… I could go for you right now, yeah, my hands along your copper curves sliding the straps of that burnt sunset summer-dress off your shoulders, falling with gravities soft wisp, revealing suppleness and the quiver of lips, wet, stripped, for all the world to see… But if you don’t want to just yet, then get in the car baby, and let’s go to Goodberry’s for a concrete custard, that thick chocolate shit, turned upside down, doesn’t drip. We can sit at the corner table, by the sidewalk, with the chalk Monet’s churning pastels lifting us skyward in relaxed enlightenment. We’ll project eternally, baby, cos our combined within shines fusion’s light, and off this earth, our bodies will drift along solar winds and fight planetary pull, and we’ll need that heat, ya know? So flash your crooked smile, your sly eye shimmer, and lets ride red-hot delight, yeah, our bodies glowing ember.
nice work here, i love the image as emotions fire. and the tenderness of what might happen....is raw as the concrete you spoke of. lovenpeace from saff always a interesting pleasure to read your words is this written to sing ...
