Sating Intrigue

In a world where temptation,
Temptation is rife,
Solitude is a freedom.
Freedom of expression, freedom to be,
Freedom to live, freedom to breathe

The breath of a distant,
Soul crossing paths,
Mingling with lives with no consequence.
No consequence but one, an intrigue of happenstance.

Consumed by thirst,
A hunger to breathe,
The essence of soul
The soul that is seen

Not the soul that is seen by a fleeting eye
But by the eyes that burn deep that see the lie
The lie that is,
The mask that shrouds
The intent, the pleasure of what can arouse

From the soul beneath,
That lurks in the shadows,
The limbs that part,
When the mind lets it wander.

Wander it does, excites the observer
Let it meld freely with souls that know her

Ensconce, please sate, that thirst that hunger,
That hunger to be,
That hunger to breathe.

To breathe a soul,
So new to a mind,
The intrigue is sating but those limbs spread wide

Wider to take, wider to bind,
Bodies together as souls do climb

Higher and higher with each passing breath
Touch paper gasp, from ecstatic scent.
The scent that binds the erotic state
Souls that meld, souls that sate.

Bodies arch at the beat of a flex
The flex of mind and the roll of a swell.
The swell of a soul, and the muscles that bind,
Faster and faster as the meld holds minds.

Sparking like ember with no end in sight.
Bodies sating, but begging no mercy,
Sate these urges, ensconce infill me

Spasm ensues, unrestrained release
Bodies sated but the mind still intrigued.

Eyes pierce souls, new no more,
But needless to say,
There’s definitely more.