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Not I

Not I

Mentally cursed...

not I!

I write best of truth,

less audacity.

My quill ascending

from the ink well.

The chalice of my mind

flowing upon the scroll.

The serpent didn't invent sin.


Mentally cursed...

not I!

Sexualities I crave,

my giver believers.

To share our travels...

lets not unravel.

Believing as one,

The sum of it all.

Bite of the apple

is no pitfall.


Mentally cursed...

not I!

Bisexually sure,

I need no cure.

The shingle of my me...

open mind we shine.

Reality of proclivities,

spewing forth actualities

in the garden of it all.

We will not fall.


Mentally cursed...

not I!

Ride my cock...

no remorse.

Fuck me with

your serpent's tongue.

Take the reins...

body hunger.

We will not blunder.

Just make thunder.


Mentally cursed...

not I!

This is no game,

no one to blame.

Making love in our maze

rain's sensual haze...

and golden showers

from the towers...

of Babylon.

The tree of life

never looked so good. 


Mentally cursed...

not I!

Sexually inscribed

in our own world.

We will not break,

our thunder we make.

In the world of our making

on erotic plains.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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