Touch Quartet 4: Framentation Grenade In the House of Love
The frenzy of neon kisses, pinkly afterburns
on imagination's smouldering cigarette,
searing tongue savoured lips.
A diamond white smile, ghostly rictus upon
snowing TV screen's grey deadlock,
feverish hands clenched on thrusted hips.
The feather-light touch, delicate summer breeze,
balmy sexual calypso fingers
stroking urgent and hypertense veins.
A telephoto stare, terminal gateway soul
of aquamarine laser beam stabbed desire,
inflicting razor thin pain.
The hypnotic facial structure, porcelain portrait
of love's short fuse radiator
burnt in ecstasy's furnace room.
Nitro-glycerine flesh, the fragmentation grenade
in this torrid house of love,
my consciousness just went boom!...man.
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