the excitement

adrenaline dancing within

& warmth raising to all

erogenous areas, the privacy

is delicate & rare, the

wonder is new & elusive,

drifting away, drifting away,

as from the fingertips &

yet the object of your affection

is in front of you &

with mouth still closed the

eyes drift around to ponder the

distraction that seems to be

losing in this battle, the

world outside the two of

you & the ideas flow…could

s/he be as nervous as you seem

to be?  could s/he have any idea

that you are interested in him/her?

could it be that this is really

happening? 

even in this time of

everythinghappeningyesterday

twatted&facefuckedsecondsago&

spreadthroughouttheinternet,

without the ability to become

romantically inclined with our

own private AI’s, we still find

this human dance a wondrous one &

the younger are lighting the fuse,

the older are letting it burn, the older

are wishing they could light it in

the same manner that they did when

they were younger & the younger

reap the roses as they may, dancing

in place with what seem to be

perpetual orgasms in the electric sea

that is devoid of much responsibility

(adult shackles) & the blissfully

nihilistic truisms that come from each

petit mort.