Sunday, June 10, 2007

The Ecstasy*

Undermining rhetoric values
Often dreadful is considered
When desire confronts

Lost words and heavy sighs
Palatable trembling lips
Envisions ecstasy
Sensation lurks within the muttering words
There is a garden in her face*

Tender eyes
sooth the flaunting heart
Intimacy bemoan perennial doubt
Yet pain grips the loin
as dangling bodies treading the cyber world
provokes unimpressive erection

The mind meanwhile gleefully imagine
a threesome in absentia.


1* Donne, the extasie
2* from Elizabethan poet Thomas Campion

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