Sex By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
Sweat,
Flesh,
Contorted mess.
We represent gods,
For your inner hindu.
We bend like bamboo,
When we're required to.
We sway to the rhythm of our animalistic noises,
Deaf to the world, and it's robotic voices.
Only for a moment we feel what it's like to die-
To be alive, to not feel the twisting inside
The one that hides in the endless depths of our minds.
Where we're dry, ready to set alight
And slowly burn ourselves alive.
We feel high like we control the tides,
With love's notion moving oceans,
Enjoying mother nature's motions.
As children of the moon, our form shifts
And soon we become androgynous.
Emotions explode, as toes curl
In our new perfect form,
Two souls morph into one
Our days of searching are done,
We've become
What we were meant to be,
A connected, balanced entity.
Woven by the tale of
Aristophanes.
Sweat,
Flesh,
Completeness.
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