DAMNED ON DEMAND
--Rest your thigh on my head!
“What is it you seek, dearest?”
--That which cannot be found.
“At what price sensual pleasure?”
--At piece rates that can’t be set,
such a height that can’t be met.
“Rest your head on my thigh
I will comb my long fingers through your hair
and tell you of my desires
I will whisper around you
and anoint you with the fruits of my longing
becoming your discovery post”
--And where then will the fingers prowl
when this head is bare, inside and out,
when the whispers roar in their impotence,
when the fruits are dry upon the branch
though the longing lingers on, lingers on,
the blistered heart festering uncovered?
“For what do you wish, dearest?
what is the cost of spiritual comfort?
lay your lips between mine.”
--Lay my mine between your lips, you mean,
let it explode into predictable fragments.
I will swallow all unscattered parts.
There are no undigested certainties
banished and gone.
“I will wrap you in the cloak of my arousal
and keep the unpredictable world at bay
I will swallow you
and digest all your uncertainties
through me, vanished and gone
for life is little more than a walk
through the lost and found.”
--I say thee nay, life is much less than a stroll
among these other lost, other foundered souls.
Unworthy, perverted angels of defilement,
in the dust we lay our dreamers.
“We mislay our dreams in the dust
only to unearth the perfect agent of fulfillment
--Alas, gratis is the greatest usury of all. No man can pay it.
[All lines within quotations are a poem by Aamie B. My apologies for perverting her wonderful poem to me.]