Lost At Last To Lust

Out of my be jeweled gown, A well-tailored dark brown, I smugly lie down, My brow releasing from its academic frown… Now, I’m a package on a fluffy bed sheet, Any flesh would hurriedly greet, Speedily decide to meet, At it madly rush, And against it brazenly brush! My mind is a computerized mesh, A sensual chapter opened afresh … ***! I might soon be fathering a baby, From unintended tactlessness in a hotel lobby, And as soon a life readying for the crèche. Fourteen years back was she wedded? The ring signaling the event not faded: And I had since with her been on greeting terms… With our pleasantries multiplying like modern germs! Already, a love not listening to reason, But me assuring that it shall last a season: A program of pasturing in Libido, Adulterous grasses and shrubs, the meadow, As inexcusable as its “Wherefore”, It’s rather bizarre “Therefore”. That’s the love I’m now daring; A drunk one, bad in caring, Only powerful behind banged doors, Spotting a hundred moral sores… All about the silliest gasps, For ignited moans and rasps, And a still prized proud waist, By my craving lusts the only thing I should taste, Me ceaselessly urging to tag along, While composing and singing its own song. Now, methinks freely we rattle, While lust keeps winning nearly every battle?