12-03-2014, 11:32 PM
( Note. Unusually, I ask that this is read very slowly and, dare I say it, menacingly. Help with the last line needed. Inspired by an obscure confession of a reformed sexual predator, now a counsellor. Names witheld to avoid legal repercussions....but it is not me, bena 
)
Your sky-high eyes bore black in blue, like holes in crumpled silver foil,
imploring me to change my mind, and so you press my hands upon
your disconnected aching breasts. You murmur but do not recoil;
as though through touch we transmit truths which cannot be undone.
Exotica, erotica, you play the contact game so well
that I am losing to your love. We feel the way we do tonight,
so do not make another sound, for fear slipped words some secrets tell;
on open mouth your hard-pressed kiss will kill fool’s promises outright.
Lay curled upon my cloud, my bed…and squirm around my heat, my whole.
Become a cosmic centrifuge, a spinning maelstrom we can ride,
far down until a speck of dust is one last mote of lust control;
so small that we could lose all will, all reticence, all pride.
Exotica, erotica, I look at you and change my mind…
Why are you here? Go somewhere safe. I cannot help you rest in peace.
You do not know where I have been, or how long I have been confined.
Please help her, someone…take her home, for it is I that needs release.
Tectak
2014
)Your sky-high eyes bore black in blue, like holes in crumpled silver foil,
imploring me to change my mind, and so you press my hands upon
your disconnected aching breasts. You murmur but do not recoil;
as though through touch we transmit truths which cannot be undone.
Exotica, erotica, you play the contact game so well
that I am losing to your love. We feel the way we do tonight,
so do not make another sound, for fear slipped words some secrets tell;
on open mouth your hard-pressed kiss will kill fool’s promises outright.
Lay curled upon my cloud, my bed…and squirm around my heat, my whole.
Become a cosmic centrifuge, a spinning maelstrom we can ride,
far down until a speck of dust is one last mote of lust control;
so small that we could lose all will, all reticence, all pride.
Exotica, erotica, I look at you and change my mind…
Why are you here? Go somewhere safe. I cannot help you rest in peace.
You do not know where I have been, or how long I have been confined.
Please help her, someone…take her home, for it is I that needs release.
Tectak
2014