0’Natchurals Words

Untitled (XX)
By 0’Natchural

I hear thunder,
Clapping against the skies,
As if it were the sweat drenched skin of inner thighs,
During the dance,

And it is good,

She moves,
Sultry tones writhing through her being,
Pleasure nodes aflame,
Senses engulfed in life’s sweet nectar,

I greet her flurrying sway,
Gyrating to her flow as if keeping time in beat,
All misconceptions ascue,
In the moment we are akin to symbiosis as she pulls from deep within me,

We clash like armies on a battle field,
Meld violently like metal alloys smelted whole,
Impurities cast asunder,

Words are lost,
Time stands still.