A Poem: Edit

[NakedBear]

You are on the couch in my basement -
Rouge, soft and sinful.

We are drawn like salt from taint.
Our hands flirt and so do our toes.
Finally, entangle.
Tighten.

Its wrong
Like Humbert Humbert
And Lolita
And the likes

Oh but it feels right and good
And more familiar than
Breathing. I like that breathing is emphasised, since it is the most basic living fact, yet also connect to passion and sex (in my mind, at least). Yet the enjambment seems a bit artificial to me

Our grapple resumes
And our fumes permeate and intoxicate and we’re drunk past surrender
And fires rush our guts – the inextinguishable kind.
And spinning hastens
And shadows dance on first reading this image jarred me, because I couldn't see why shadows should be dancing. Is there a light source? Is it moving. But maybe the shadows are the dark unilt places in the mind of speaker and his lover. The next line suggests it, but still I was jarred.
And regret will always be for the young.

And so we laud our imminent doom
And bathe in its eternality.

I enjoyed this read.

Mikey