
source of our
greatest pleasures
soixente-neuf
when the time is ripe
when the air is pregnant
with the scent of
full-grown fruit.
you want to lie on me,
slowly creep up and
straddle me
with your right leg
as if you wish to caress
my chest/my nipples
that hardened up like
prickly pears you
rub your belly against
your head that lies
against my thighs
i open up for you to lie
you take my shaft
my sack of nuts and
stroke me fast into a
hardened stump
this mushroom pinkness
of its head
you feast upon
you slide your tongue
up and down and
lovingly devour its
silken base –
ahhh! you listen to my
sighs and lustful whistles.
i want to be in you
now with your lowered
bums
legs spread wide
your pussy placed upon
my mouth
my darting tongue
that cuts enticingly
into your crack
between the soft
cushioned mounds.
along this field of mounds
and fine ravines i sink
into your double orifice
i clamber in excitement
to your smoothest thighs
hold on to them as if
climbing an ‘indian pride’
your gaping fine-shaped
silken cunt slides
up and down
my thirsty mouth
my tongue that tastes
your innermost dew
my cock sucked in against
your cushion-tongue
this loving lick! oh last!
and if I die it must be now!
in this rare moment of
utmost exhilaration!
soixente-neuf of lust!
we die together in our
rubbing mouths and
heated-up tongues
dying like so many
brave lovers before us
me in your pussy –
your second lips
your second tongue
that mouth-like vulva
that absorbs my mouth
my lips/my tongue/my
nose and face
like your lips absorb
my cock/its head/shaft/
and balls
that slide and fall
into the furnace of
your throat/ohhh/
and then we die
and drown and drown
in our passion-heated
comes.
zolzanzelan
zjg-poetry’02/’20.
cantos libidos/ hommage to eros/ ballads to love.