Windows

Windows

They say the soul has windows: they're your eyes,
So keep them open when I want to come
And spread my fluids thickly on the one
Who gazes up at me. Don't look surprised;
If I require your mouth filled with my need,
Though you regard me with that anxious look
That asks me if the pleasure that I took
Was quite enough for me: please lick the seed;
I'll wipe your face and then you can just suck
The liquor from my fingers as a treat,
So smile as you have pleased and played your role;
And offered up your mouth; I ran amuck:
You felt the member advance and retreat;
But watched me through the windows of your soul.