I was not aware of the colors that grow wildly in this land.
Hues from the imagination of Walt Disney
They light up the room as she undresses.
There is a smell that enter through the eyes
Very few men know of this phenomenon
It’s a smell that alters your judgment.
It forces hallucinations upon the heart.
I breathe in with the hopes of seeing fairies dance upon her skin.

A silent countdown ringing in my head
Accompanied with a syncopated panting,
Tribal drum beats conjures up an erection that could wipe out an entire continent.
“We must fuck wisely”


There is a consistency within my pages.
The temptress comes with her exotic fruit and lays them at my feet.
I often end my paragraphs with a single word…

No.

Only now a new beast has decided to roam my darkened hallways.
She has made her presence known and left her claw marks on my bed post.

I fear for the life of my heart.




How then, could you possibly say no?
In an instance when you look at that body.
That skin covering those bones.
It’s made of milk and sugar, chocolate and cinnamon.
Like oatmeal cookies from a childhood you never experienced
Irresistible to say the least.
My tongue grew a few pant sizes
and forced its way out of my mouth.
Considering its new thickness,
The word “no” is now impossible to utter,
All you can do give in to the tongues urges
Tasting all the mysteries of that beautiful skin.

The smell that creeps from the deep, dark depths of denim
Wafts like hot apple pie, fresh from the oven.
It’s the aroma that lifts cartoon wolves off their feet.
Suspended by a visible scent, hovering a few feet above this beautiful creature,
Men who are starving should never float above a meal.










My tongue rolls out of my mouth like the Dead Sea scrolls.
I cough a cloud of dust and moths
and misspell the word “No” as it falls upward to the ceiling
It joins the letter “W” left over from a silent “wow”

“NO” is now “NOW”

Now is Now.


I must blame my actions on her smell forit is the smell that intoxicates.
I could sit in front of this torture for hours and never salivate.
“But oh that smell…”
That mesmerizing, glorious smell of cloth and sex.
Her scent has a voice,
The kind angels use to sing
She began to overflow,
Sweet Sweat
Of which I drink gallons.
.
.




With my ear pressed against her stomach, I detect a soft purr.
This assures me that she is part feline
She brushes her face against my naked inner thigh,
Tempting me with innocence,
Begging me to pet her.
Which I do, because secretly, I love cats.
My hands run down her back, tugging slightly on her tail.
As she arches her back she releases the sexiest of “meows.”
This translates to:

“I’m no threat, come a little closer.”

"Oh but you are.” I moaned,
“Also, you are afraid of water, of this I am certain."