Full moon


Tuesday, September 09, 2014


It is hot and wet

When I get there

A moving target

That closes in

Around me

And shifts

This way, then that,

Up and down

And sideways

Until Iím drunk

On the movement

As any sailor

Something stirring

In the depth of me

Iíve not quite

Felt before,

A rising to the tides

As if you were a full moon,

And I change

On your account

This hard and soft of it


And always shifting

Like wind driven beach sand,

As if to cease moving

Is to cease to exist

With me wrapped up

In all that you are,

The need of it

Burning in us both

Making it impossible

To breathe for whole moments,

As I hold onto your sides

This ride, this rise and fall,

This ache and release,

All there is to think about

Or feel,

The perfect Zen moment

When time stops

But we cannot.



Erotica menu

Main Menu

email to Al Sullivan