dear Life,
you turn me on
to myself,
making me grope
between
darkened walls
that move and shift
constantly,
taking me deeper
into a void
that I cannot fathom
with restless
hands and eyes
that can only look
for what they know;
dear Life,
you take me
to that sweet spot,
where pain and joy
are born and die,
the G-spot
that holds me
in an orgasmic dance,
turned on
by myself
and all of you,
dear Life.
you turn me on
to myself,
making me grope
between
darkened walls
that move and shift
constantly,
taking me deeper
into a void
that I cannot fathom
with restless
hands and eyes
that can only look
for what they know;
dear Life,
you take me
to that sweet spot,
where pain and joy
are born and die,
the G-spot
that holds me
in an orgasmic dance,
turned on
by myself
and all of you,
dear Life.
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