A MONK AND HIS WET DREAMS

A MONK AND HIS WET DREAMS

“does it tingle when it wiggles?”

that was the first words to escape my vocal department
when to the left and to the right
she sauntered

this is how I fell head over hips

Part 1:
always eavesdropping on her soft purrs
when wandering fingers finds spots

Part 2:
I sit on a hard bed foot tapping at her slow meanderings
back and forth my mind’s forte

Part 3:
around the curves of my member
sits the core of her desire

Part 4:
she always with methodical approaches
fling winks across the stone walls of my monastery

Part 5:
count down to anticipation
adrenalin of lust points to illusion

Part 6:
she makes my butterflies flutter
like the tail of an excited puppy

Part 7:
I let her scent linger while I unravel
the Bermuda Triangle like Lot in Gomorrah

Part 8:
one touch at a time
another wonderful side of raw and hidden tenderness
lifts our heads into the clouds

LIGHT FADES

…and when all was imagined and done
I whistled from my lonely dorm
“does it tingle when it wiggles?”

her silence reminds me that wet dreams are not for the castrate mind.