Sufi Style
delicious
nutritious
archives
as we roll amongst sheets,
amongst discarded clothing,
amongst heavy breaths, and sweat
my hand slowly finds itself
in a familiar course of navigation
beneath the simple, white, cotton
delicates guarding the most coveted
prize of any heterosexual male
while my mind races with the
predictive images of discovery
to be manifested upon arrival
images shaped by mainstream pornography
by playboy, and
R-rated movies,
images of soft and tender
mounds of gently coiled pubic hair
hung regally as the gates
of conception
turning the tamed wilderness
of womanhood into
the vaginal reality of
an impressionable youth
unaware of the true treasure
that lay inches around the corner
realizing god's sexual gift
only years later
when, lying in bed with my
first bare, libidinous woman
the complete comprehension of
female anatomy moved beyond
the secret gardens represented by hefner
to the lost canals of femininity
although erectoral functionality
still very much revolved around
the image of hair in a simple
two inch by three inch plot of
meticulously gardened lawn
as opposed to the less visible
folds of your deep underside
but, but, but wait a minute
you're bald! and
for all intensive purposes
as vaginally incomplete
as my two and a half year old
little half-sister, and
company, halt!
call back the troops
retreat hand to breast, and
hope for instantaneous regrowth
of the clear-cut patch, or
pray that she'll fail to pay notice
to lack of attention dealt on her
moist, warm, welcoming...
but bald! and
something does not compute
but, you are so hot,
but bald! and
it could be my sister, and
i feel so pedophilic, and
why bald?
hardened images of female sexuality
race throughout my mind,
down to my hands, and
up through my penis, and
can accepted images of appearance find
alteration so quickly
solely in the interest of sex?
a question of intense curiosity
although, there is no
time for consideration,
over copulation, so
move for condom, and
work out the details in the morning.