You taunt my days and haunt my nights
with the feigned offer of innocence;
filling me with awe at the might of alluring need,
and the pleasure of teasing fingers rake,
which so eagerly spread slightly to tease.
Senses remorseless with waining restraint,
a naked knowing smile
with beguile so sinfully offered,
silently beats me to my knees...
towards an unexplored pit
of worship and shame.
Two alone as one with all secrets dead;
Slain by yield to command of probing desire,
to find in the dim light of submission
conquering eyes reflecting some grand fulfillment...
and uncountable volumes spoken with but a lasting sigh;
to echo through all eternity, but never to fade.
All that can be known or felt does endure ineradicable,
as lustful treasure sequestered somewhere...
yet somehow a threat irrepressible,
free for recall, to fondle and suckle as solace...
the temptations reward as sole regret.
walt martin
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/more-sexually-sequacious-stuff/
