WHAT CUMS AFTER YOU?

my soul so... wants to know...
what cums... after you?
what cums after you... what cums after you... what cums after you...

oh my soul so... wants to know
what cums after you... in the
echoing vibrations
of love lightly tapping in these seductive selections.

what cums after you?
it is the sound of strings plucked
to the rhythms of strummed lightly
belief beyond the invite of me beyond fallacy
so brightly plied by the plight of my calloused fingers
for the love of you... the blood of them
so filled with the flood and rush of blood
pressed up against the lyre's wire on wood.

what cums after you...
is the glistening skin of my...
listening drum of ear....
the rattling of this my
clearly emphatic answer
to what that... question is... and it is...

what cums after you... what cums after you...
so plain to me what be... so plain
in fact that e'en a
blind man can see... so... why
oh why... don't you see... that I love thee?
that what cums after you... what cums after you...
what cums after you... is me.

I AM what cums after you...
and this... will ever be
this drab reality... that what
dreams may come
and come what may... still
I... and only I... can be... what cums after you...

and the fact there remains that
there will never be for me
any another love in me... that
cums... and cums... and cums...
after you... the way that I do... no

no other one that... acts out
in all the silly ways I do... as I have
ever done... and so... will always will... to do.

for whenever.... wherever... whatever
love goes through...
you will find my art with you
roped to the muse of my hope and purpose.

this attendance to this foolish heart
an unchaste chase a dance of lips
with all its... drooling parts in hand with quill.
this swill of my... capital I's
now filled with the swagger of my
crossed T's to thus meet your eyes

I... through the following
of the scent of your spirit.... this
predator of the twist...
this pounce of my beast on hips
spiraling round the grounds
of your flowing gait the words of that
hinge which sways with the weight beneath the
fringes of the golden gate
of your body thus abridged.

the marriage to the deep
of my desired descent so... into you
and its eventual ascent that bends and
blooms into... the flower-filled
valley in the lower regions
of you through mind, body and soul.

and I will ever fill my nights
and days... with the light of you.
I will never be bereft of
such as is your colors
reflected in the indigo blues
and purple hues of... new moon
to full moon... you... the seasons
from the winter in me unto the
summer time and breeze of sea.

and as I will watch the sky
for your every rise
so I will also swatch a sample
as an exemplary example... keep
each sweep of you alive... in me... while I...
visit you on the river Nile
all the while you sleep.... my soft footsteps
to never leave... my footprints too far from thee...

I... ever in the shadow of love... but ...
not too close behind you... to
not just... borrow another...
piece or two of the
pretty eye candy that lives
in the lap of rapturous... you

I so wrapped up too
in these candidly
happy moments
that I have secretly kept of you.
I not too far to loose the scent of you... and
I want a taste of... just a bit of this honeydew.

I letting not a drop be wasted... no
not one drip in the seductive...
opening up... of you...
literally as lyrically I spit and I spill it
with the parting of my lips.
the inception of a tryst of us
thus joined... limbs linked to the parting of
the thick... of your full of lips....

a passionate kiss upon a
wound thus healed with a touching
holy bond... thus sealed in this
my solemn promise...

the ordeal of the psalm upon the
urn of solace now blared upon the horn
of an honest voice... the
strong songs... a funerary bowl
that holds the ashes of what was
once a deathless past.

no truth or dare... I swear at last
that I will cum to you
even if its to be in the afterlife...
I will cum after you oh my darling...
if but for to charm you one time
from the heights of seven heavens or
or the very depths of twelve hells...

and it doesn't really matter to me... which one it is...
I will cum after you.

my soul so... wants to
lunge for you with this
the sweet tip... of my
cinnibar... with the elixir of the
honyed tongue.
and it is dripping wet with the
bawdy song of lust.... I will cum after you...
I will cum after you...

my whole soul so... wants to
give to you the thrill
of the reel of passionate undertones...
beneath the sounds and shrills of birds
words that... chirp while perched
in the vines of these creeping leaves...

these... energetic expressions of being
the lessons of such things that be the
climbing in the intertwine of our
free unlocked... the shock
in the tree tops of
trembling limbs.

these erotic blocks and spins
the hypnotic the excerpts of this
fertile earth... our purity
thoroughly tilled in
the garden of our fecundity... the
lewd nudity of verbs and adverbs... the
joy of laughter... grafted from the plan
of my planted fantasies.

the display of hardened mortar
expanding across
the stone of this fine masonry
in the lay of the many
mythological stories

the tomes of the
astrological mansions of
the angling degrees of
what it is that still lives
here between us...

we both on the crust
of the cusps of a touch
of a little stardust... just
settling in the nests of
up above the grandly
arched advancements
and onto our porch.

the scorch and flame of me.
the ignite of a fire that
wants to do the same to you
that you do to me.

a thought form
that aims to tame
the do of you... in the face of
of any and all others... tell you how
in the lieu of you... there is nothing
and no one else... quite like you.

for no one will ever
measure up to the pay of you
overdue to me...
the true fulfillment of the
fit of bill... the way.
the ways of you... with your grooves spent
with the change of its money maker

coins falling from the waist that
shakes the belt of you...
and rocks the bells of me
in the visions of your dew... the water fall of you
into the pool of just
spilling all over me.

the clutch of you
face down... teeth clenched
into a stuffed feather pillow
a place of escape fluffed for you... always
in the bedchamber.

the sound of one shot
of the arrow fled from
so far away
beneath the see of these twin cities
of our two silhouettes...

the bounce of
sweaty titties... and tears dried... yet
raindrops are still dancing in my head
pattering against the windows of my soul
romancing the stone.
between this love alone of we

the ready that my soul so... wants to know...
what cums... after you?
what cums after you... what cums after you... what cums after you...

my soul so... wants to know
what cums after you... in the empathic stanzas
of what past life memories and future hopes will be
the linger of the
emphatic answer to what that question is...
so plain to a blind man to see
that what cums after you...
what cums after you
what cums after you... always... is me...

Pantherion Prime from Pantherion Scribes © 2013