Stream of Concussion During a Waking and a Breaking

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You are a never dying
Spark where my
Sense is concerned.
To make love with you was my desire.
It never happened. For real.

Nowadays, you offer me rides.
Your car has a baby lock.
You don’t like me no longer.
You tolerate my company.
I’m not the guy I used to be.

I wanted your breasts to
Absorb the warm and if
Your teats hardened in the
Second-third contact with my thumbs
I told myself; that’s a sign you desired me like mad, like deep inside.

Making love with you. At a bend
You take the pace off by
Letting go the accelerator. It’s 12.15.
A woman bringing the child home stops. Watches us pass.
I want to make love to that woman. Too.

I know where she lives.
She lives the hardcore options. Where she lives.
She wants me bad. Inside.
My subservient dick likes the taste of her mouth.
I watch your foot on the pedal. They’re smooth.

“The recession wave has passed”
And I nod, knowing that that recession
Affected you little. Your man, my friend,
Would develop more software.
What does a software engineer’s worked dick taste like?

I wonder.
Is a software engineer’s dick felt softly,
The sweet scented, apple flavoured drop
Making patterns like wayward honey.
How softly, like a child’s, is it felt by you?

A long lost and then recovered friend
Drinks with me in his annex.
His thesis: handjobs, footjobs,
Blowjobs never lose vogue. Only the
Jobber ages. Withers. Dies. Like the rest of the world.

You need a brilliant mind to think these things.
As long as cocks squirt and mouths can speak
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
“I wanted to fuck your mother all those years ago”.
He tells me. Long lost years. We drink.

His mother died when guy was six.
My mother tied his shoe-lace once
When we were Grade 3 boys frolicking with dust.
He grew up fantasizing about my mother, then.
He did drama at school. He is Oedipus Rex.

At a T-junction you drop me.
Say farewell. Smile. Wave. Honk. Pass.
You’re the living reminder of an airy substance
That I never lose the newness of dreaming after.
Life gives no screws. Just gives you the drivers.

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