Lunatic

The world doesn’t see inside you.
You twist and turn in all your loveliness.
Hiding behind the tensions in their laughter.
You see inside their smiling dreams of lust that they can never face.
They are captured by all the images of dripping and inviting holes for their creamy passionate nights.
No longer whipping their dreams until they spurt into their twisted eruptions of soundless satiation.
Cocks, hard and pulsating, leaping in their explosiveness, you shimmer in their eyes always elusive but a living fantasy impossible to ignore.
Always seeing life’s entertaining beauty, all the fabric of men’s wishful lust, as the flesh parades down Mitchell Street waiting for his swelling need.
Away from life’s expectations of an enduring show and glowing drama, your childlike game of hide and seek comes and goes, as you navigate the blood that surrounds you.
And as you slide into your own dreams in the mirror, you wonder who might be there for you.
Hold me close, inside your heart if you can find me, for I am just a tiny and brief illustration that you may glimpse.
Where are you, you’ve disappeared and can’t find yourself, but I can feel you inside my heart.
The brewers gold seeps into your mind and mixes with the wondrous weed of hidden dreams.
And your twisted pain of tearing innocent agony ripped into oblivion by those guardians anointed to be your angels.
As their hardest engulfs their minds and their evilness spreads across our innocent world.
Now as the years weave across time, here you are for me to bump into as I wander lost without you.
But you seem like sand in my childlike hand, one grain at a time slipping away from me.
My heart almost has you but the myriad of mirrors that you are trapped within levitate you into your aloofness.
As your lips flutter across mine I feel my butterfly of love taking her rightful place in her world.
As you soar above, I gaze upon you, seeing the holy kindness that tears apart the religious hypocrites of our nightmares.
Her magic love and kindness recognised by the wounded and tortured souls who live in our effluent of materialist emptiness.
You pierce the truth of godliness with your maze of unacknowledged kindness.
My arms reach up for you but you soar where only butterflies dare, and onto the winds of truth in your purity.
Your delicate wings lifting you even higher and away from my reach, my sparkling tear drops never enough for life to spurt forth a shared flower of beauty.
In the moonlight your hidden passion lies within a maze of shimmering mirrors.
When you offer up an open flower of exotic loveliness for me, it consumes me in its fragrance of dancing lust.
Powerless my fingers are weaving in twirling rapturous flushes as you sing my lullaby.
Fist of power, delving invitingly into climaxing reflections of perfection, always enough.
Driving in, harder and harder, until you beg for more.
Forever more, begging in your wonderment, and yearning for its endless blissful pounding connection and onward towards bawdy joy.
In my heart, you always deserve more, your body ripe and dripping in sweet nectar.
You are the petals of a passion on an endless quest.
My body offers up itself, your enduring search is over but only briefly, for it is a short journey into endless orgasms.
As your flower bud swells again, the blood engorging into life’s tiny bulb of sweetest ecstasy, you dance in search of the spring of pleasure that bubbles into our world to offer its timeless joy.
You know so well the butterfly that soars above, floating in life’s ultimate pleasure.
When you feel her wings carrying her away into your clouds of endless dreams.
And when I search the sky for you, I weep as it’s emptiness I scan in painful vain, knowing your silky wings have lifted you into a realm beyond me.