Poem: State of Seduction

Fabric on your fingertips
On my forehead, your lips pressing
Delicately, and then I cry

silently, not to break it
Gripping my hand to your chest
Love to be made and to last.

Long, long time since I feel
That alive mode kicking in when
I send my soul into high-flying

Last night’s Whisky and cigarette
Your smell on the mouthpiece
River flowing without your presence

Eyes close, releasing that painful grudge
Holding onto that foe. Piercing feeling
Of razor edge in the state of seduction

He’s over the moon, I can’t bear
Touching him like there’s no tomorrow
Flipping the Book of Revelation, taking in,
Out and over the Karma Sutra

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