Wanton Wants

“Wanton Wants

Underneath the surface

Resides my true intent

Kissing madly madly

Hushed proximal breath

Leaning into it

Digesting

The sense of you and I

Culminates in sins chosen

Lost in galaxies,

You call eyes

Excited eve electric

Desire for insides

Insights new arrival

Forbidden by design

High hanging fruit from your garden,

Your basket of delights

I’d trust a serpent ‘fore an Angel

If you gave me one long night

Press, yes press against me

Find my heartbeat

Drive me wild

You brought a constant deep desire

When you hit me with that smile

“Tomorrow Never Ends”

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“Tomorrow Never Ends”

A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker

Do you suppose they lay out their clothes for the next day?

Seems to teeter between confidence and hope

Somewhere slight on the middle of either end

Almost imperceptible

But, as prepared as a new day could expect one to be

I sometimes get around to wondering how many people never awaken to dress in laid out clothes