I saw you struggle to contain it
Within the seams of your dirty jeans.
This was the charming of the snake.
I saw you struggle to tame it
My ass was both carrot and stick.
This was the breeding of the horse.
I saw you struggle to explain it
As your seed exploded past my face.
This was the flapping of the dove.
My reviews for Wild Tales and The Reunion can be read here at The Lumière Reader.
Your phallus,
So stout in its erectness,
A statue of greatness,
Plants a warmth inside my lower depths.
Your shaft,
A willing member of our union,
Free of scruples and neurosis,
Acts on the purest animal lust, not love.
Your meat,
Too proud in its prime,
Stands free, above all other meagre offerings,
Takes what it wants without hesitation.
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