Hi Hive,
It's Saturday night, so I laid in bed with my pen in erection as I stroke it for an erotic description, strapped in a poetic precision.
Please indulge me to borrow the wings of imagination and dive in the pool of reminiscence as my admired pen paints a picture so sensuous in my empty bed.
I know I'm not perfect, a psychologist might consider me a deflect, but I hope I'm not alone afterwards in holding the thought that "life is indeed too short not to be fun"
A NAUGHTY NIGHT
He hurriedly drops a colourful curtain
That hangs with zero pain
So the moon and the stars
Will not peep at where they are
A flawless body in bed laid bare
Romance seized the atmosphere
A nasty night with killed lights
Some wordless sounds but no sight.
Passion armed with absolute accuracy
Expressions of a deep intimacy
Moves well skilled and rightly poised
One can tell from the feminine voice
Music mixed in baritone and soprano
Lacking serenity as in Vegas's casino
The deaf could hear the music
A moralist would likely be a critic
An aggressive encounter of romance
On a sensuous slab it's enhanced
They're obviously lost in lust
Like purity lost in dust
An expression of a romantic incision
By persons readily armed with passion;
Lovers quenching their lustful thirst with tact.
As the moon is denied of sight, my poetic pen bears witness to the apparent erotic act.