4/24/2012


It- It's like a sensation slowly washing over your body.
You close your eyes trying to

isolate

and emphasize the feeling,
focusing on the back and forth motion of snug hips and
curved crevices that fit together like puzzle pieces,
heart-racing
you realize you've assumed an uncharacteristic chant
and your toes stretch and curl as sensations pulsate through
them, with sweaty hands you grasp the warm backs
of
necks and heads
and shoulder blades that serve as your only source of physical
anchoring to the real
world and in that moment you realize being found out doesn't
matter and your lips freeze mouthing passionate letter o's

and

and at your epitome, your voice fails you

and after transcending through the Eye of Providence
you lay there sweaty
and at a loss for all the right words.

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