
all they'd find is a smoldering mound of ash and coal
and a heady, lingering pungent scent
of our combusted love
(spots of my pearl-ivory cum mixed-in with sweat,
goddess drizzle from you as well, this is all
they will detect).
by then we would have sparked, turned into light,
sun-spot bright, streaking clear across
to the other side, still entwined,
risen high above the clouds locked in lust's embrace
a tantric position improbable, hard to explain --
glowing red-hot almost white.
your storm blown hair, vine-wrapped around our forms,
tentacle shaped, spun firmly around our hips, our necks.
lips locked upon lips,
hard plunged my glowing cock - a lightning strike
deep inside your pulsating cunt, itself torrid and volcanic,
as if flowing with lava and honey, molten hot.
we swirled and spun near the speed of light, a funnel cloud,
up and up we spiraled until we finally stalled --
lay there weightless for a moment,
completely still then into a shallow dive,
a slow tumble, head over tail,
a vertigo elevator ride, back down and down
picking up speed as we went, air rushing urgently
across our backs, whistling through our hair,
leaving contrails as we fell, silver-white through the air.
we screech-dove, kamikaze-style, then bull's eye --
an ocean plunge, we hit the surface -- splat and shattered,
burst out loud,
turned into hissing steam then into cloud, we vaporized
then rose up once again
as a mushroom cloud.
soon we fell back down, a fine mist then hard pounding rain,
torrential yet warm and tropical, we gushed for a while
until we barely flowed. finally spent and dead
yet apparently content.
all they'd find is a smoldering mound of ash and coal
~noxalio~
(imagined and sketched during
a boring professional conference.
possibly a signal to consider a career change?
all comments welcomed also in that regard.)