Wednesday, April 22, 2009

The drowning pool.

The touch of lust drowns us slowly,
Into another dimension.
Filled with nymphs and strange toys.
The passion is as dark as the sheets we lay in,
Blood red.
Dark and psychedelic?
This is ecstasy.
All senses are awoken.
Aroused.
Every touch burns with pleasure.
As we drown deeper and deeper,
There is nothing more now,
Than to reach the end of the pool.
The drowning pool.
And when we awake from ecstasy,
We label ourselves,
Sinners.
-Sonia S. Anthony


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