Zywa This is real

He is grazing, getting closer
invisible to people
Only the birds watch

His warm breath undresses me
sucking he explores my desire
I smell what it does to him

One by one, he carefully pulls
off each scale from me
I let go of my imagination

and follow my body
This is real, the mystery
of love, without an outside

My skin trembles in all
my organs, in every cell
of my consciousness

I read my namelessness
in his eyes, this is real
really not romance

Poem 4709
Amsterdam, 2022-10-09

Collection: Without reserve 
Keyword: Desire: lust 
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