Poetry of Me

All this time I was waiting for you. I come back to you again and again as the sun is reflected by the moon. Docile in my ability to proceed sexually as I am surrounded by a nation of greed. The boa devours, but not me. I am a little kitten that he pulls in and protects as merger is correct. I run not. I sleep in ecstacy as I dream with the minority. Held there past seven forenights, I clean for the preparation of me in my own eyes, lips, and thighs. I take the thrusts of all vicnities as I see a being before that needs the relationaship separated from greed. I kiss the wound of God and become a sweet release for he and he in symmetry. Geometry becomes pleasure, and I live no deceit. More than I have ever known, I make the couch red with the blood of virginity. Purity so guarded since infancy with a magnificent shifting of the sea ability, I know not the knights of snake curling around me, my breath they do take. Choke no more, but be seen differently as the curtain closes the scene and I lay flat on the stage with only my dreams naked for the crowd to see.