SPERMARY WAR

Mount Vesuvius weeps thick lava without the use of protection
Sun swallows heat not burning the flesh
I threw away the grocery list I had stashed inside my jeans for months
No longer needed
My hunger strike is finally over
I run towards him for more
Legs quiver anticipation
With implication his body demands a heavy investment
I fondle his shaft again with patchouli hands
And his huff sounds more like a monstrous horse
Strong gallops of air when his toes curl
Eyes turn into beams of thunder
And I become his spokesperson by gently squeezing heavy balls
Blow hot air on his mouthpiece kissing him with goose bumps
I take him in like a rumbling flute
Glistening his brown cork with flickering flames
Sucking my homeland with inexorable force
My pushpin makes him groan
The sweet, salty tamarind flavor is organically delicious
This cornrow action tortures him
But gives me pleasure
©2006 by C. Delaleu