my erotic machinery, my lips

All our senses converge, contradict, transform, implode, gestate, collide, flay, on our lips kissing the other. Each time we kiss we feel the first kiss of humanity, 150,000 years old & new every time

My hands,

my eyes,

my nose,

my tongue,

my skin,

my hips,

the crevices in my body where night gestates,

every pore, every drop of saliva, every cry that gently pulls apart the tear-ducts of my orgasms,

a constellation and a combustion,

a convergence and contradiction,

this machine made of flesh, bones, 10 liters of blood, a heart that pumps harder with tenderness, a kilometer or two of veins, muscles, sinewy synaptic lightning, thunders into my face, my lips moisten, boom!

Un beso,

a kiss,

baiser,

قبلة,

цело�™аться | tselovat’sya,

吻 | Wěn,

bacio,

beijo,

My five senses are network

telegraphing caresses

connecting blood, muscle, belly, heartbeat

germinating the DNA of humanity’s long march, longer memory,

the first kiss

el primer beso

over and over

electrifying the soviets

inking the constitution

a new sun for spring

a lusting moon for winter

pressing on autumn and spring to come

making revolutions live in the body

the explosion of my lips anywhere on your body