I am so sleepy...
Lack of hours to tend to my sheep while I am quiescent...
but my awaking hours I tend to certain bed sheets where he sleeps imbued with his essence. I am not complaining, I am just entertaining the idea of sleep, slept, sleeping.
Eyes heavy as they close, I see nothing that contains clothes.
The hour lead me straight to his bed, as we discussed and we role played in our heads the minute we would lie about time, where and with who and lay in his bed
giving hours of pleasure, head, face, mind, speech, sounds, words, love and confusion...arising and disillusioned, content and become...becoming, became.
Our rima oris has come together closing the gap of where speech escapes
and for a long moment I relapse to be entranced in his aura---
There is no ignoring us the universe has focused in,
allowing us to reclaim our space even for a moment of selfish weakness of pure delight...or bittersweet lovers ignorant to what is to be uncovered in zen.
Still I let him pretend to love me and give me straight sin....
