Lust runs through my thoughts,
lust that takes and turns into its tool
items build for other use, like
an inmate shapes a sharp knife
out of a harmless spoon, so
translating my mind in its desire
turns a mere quiet poem
of nocturnal meditation,
of pushing deeper into a dark
night, into thoughts of pushing
into you, deeper and deeper,
ravishing you through
endless steaming hours.
25.05.2025
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