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wind and the fire

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consume me
Consume me,

mental spirit.

I am but a mortal,

my me.

Not gifted but uplifted,

of what I write.

I have upon me many words to say.

Like the corner stone of my mind,

I relay.

...where do you tell the wind and the fire to stop...

Bach and Mozart,

a little bit of me.

Consume me,

mental spirit.

I am but quicksand,

in your hand.

As you lay your head upon my penis,

I give cry.

The caresses of your sweet lips,

and python tongue squeeze me.

I relay.

...where do you tell the wind and the fire to stop...

Bach and Mozart,

a little bit of me.

Consume me,

mental spirit.

I am mired buy your passions,

and lost in your bogs.

Your eroticicm enshrouds me,

and I am but many of your lovers.

Your travels take you far.

May I join thee?

I relay.

...where do you tell the wind and the fire to stop...

Bach and Mozart,

a little bit of me.

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I took a quote from the novel A Tale of Two Cities (1859), written by Charles Dickens. A little bit out of context.

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