Safe to say
that I know a little bit
about my desires.
and, yes,
it is also safe to say
that no one can match me
when it comes to the way I think
or feel
or in short,
no one can match me
when it comes to the way I desire you.
No one.
No one can match the way shadows
appear in your sunlight
nor could anyone see or notice you,
like the way I see
or notice you.
And this?
This is not an assumption
but more, or if anything at all
this is the sum of my wildest virtues
and this is the reach from me to you
and the extension I feel
which grows
whenever I am around you.
And somehow
I admit to this.
I admit to this all,
without fear and without apology.
And so,
despite what’s happened
or regardless of what’s taken place,
there is a piece of me,
still a kid,
still filled with the rage
and wild with adrenaline,
fueled by fire
and stiff with the desire to dance
or sing freely
as in,
as loud as I can
or if louder,
I want to scream as loud
as humanly possible
(with you).
Yes.
I want to dance with you.
I want the heat and the lights
and the music to play,
as if this was meant to be
or created by the universe
to withstand the temptation
of simple foreplay, to which I explain, yes,
I want to feel the rhythm
push through me.
I want to feel the rush of my urges
the same as I feel my blood
surging through my lower-extremities
to make me feel like a man.
And you?
When I see you this way,
I am both dominant
and on the prowl;
hungry, like a wild predator
untamable by nature—and you,
if I catch you,
that is . . .
You, I would devour,
like a carnivore,
feeding on the sexiest flesh
known to all mankind.
And so,
yes.
Please forgive me.
You?
Or to me
this is almost involuntary
as it to be irreistable.
Forgive my appetite
and forgive me and my carnivorous nature
and naturally,
forgive the caveman in me,
or the need to prowl or pounce,
and please,
accept my apologies in advance
because when the time comes
or when the full moon
has its chance to be stationed
and dead-center in the midnight sky;
and as the moon
allows the tides to pull
in such a way, I apologize
for my forwardness when I say
my thirst for you
is more than enough
to make a werewolf seem meek,
like a newborn kitten,
meowing for its Mother’s milk.
And so,
when I say, “it’s on,”
then believe when I tell you,
“IT’S ON!” I say.
And when I say,
“IT’S ON,” I mean this
as if to be
like some lustful marathon.
In which case,
I promise the weaknesses in our legs
will last for weeks, or,
of course,
the weakness in our legs
will only last as long as our next marathon
comes into play –
because if I am the hunter
and you are the hunted, as in
you being my prey-like fantasy;
then trust when I say to you — if it’s on,
then it’s on.
(and then some!)
And next,
I will consume you
in pieces at a time,
from the tips of your toes,
then up through your calves,
moving up, and next,
I will feast on the meat
between your thighs,
and next, from your waist
and above, I will enjoy
every piece of you,
as if to say, I promise
that I will eat you in pieces,
one hors d’oeuvres
at a time.
But just know
I will always
be hungry
for more!
And so,
safe to say
that there is a piece of me
more alive, which is only
because of you . . .
just like I was when I was young.
I am like I was when I was younger
and my thirst and hunger
were both unquenchable
and insatiable, or AKA:
unstoppable, to say the least.
More than anything,
no matter how I am
or what my age tells me,
there will always be a part of me
who sees you like a virgin,
excited for the dance and eager
to lose himself for the very first time.
I admit that perhaps this sounds
dangerous, or maybe deranged
is closer to the point;
but when I see you
I see you the way a predator sees his prey
hungry as ever.
I admit that perhaps
this might sound too aggressive
or even too much,
or
over the top
as they say. . .
However,
the only reason why
I say this is because
while my heartbeat
is ravenous, untamed,
or even carnivorous,
and dangerous,
please, I beg you . . .
Allow me to dismantle this side
and show you another side
which is small and weak
or timid at best.
Let me show you the other side
which is the side that lion
takes when needing to be delicate
unless, of course, he is protecting his pride
or his lioness.
In which case
or as this pertains to me
(or how I see you),
I will be gentle, but . . .
I would protect you.
I see you
as if your beauty was more,
or even more
than the supposed likeness of
Cleopatra or Nefertiti.
Yours is the kind of beauty
that puts to shame
the beauties and the likes of say, Aphrodite
or even more beautiful than Andromeda,
who is the daughter of Cassiopeia,
and since you are more than Cassiopeia,
lover to Perseus, the son of Zeus;
I am more and so are my heartbeats
that beat my pulse
and keep me alive.
I am alive
and I am more than the legends of the gods
and yes, I am more than this
when it comes to you.
I am stronger than Zeus, who had the
chance to mortally love
and took advantage
to bed the mortal princess Danaë.
And so,
I say this with al humility
and humbly
I say that I would walk the fires
or Hades
or face the depths of Poseidon
and his sea monsters
or even face Ares
the god of war
to lay in bed
next to you.
I have lost enough space,
enough life
and enough time
and thus
the last thing I want to lose
is another day
without your love.
So, help me God.
This is my love
unleashed . . .
. . .unstoppable
incurable . . .
and above all else
quenchless, or unquenchable
and more so
when I see you,
I am (above all)
unstoppable, or lastly
my love and lust for you
is immeasurable
like the galaxy
to say the least ~
The Written Addiction 