Them (Rev.)

His fingers probe, crave all of her, wet thoughts to come, the silence of the Camelot brings arctic air to settle on delicious stickiness, as kisses flow between soft twins to form magnetic bonds of lace and promises where fishes gasp for welcome pheromones fall off the living wall, scooped by the hands of love and fed to hungry lips, shared without conscious thought, then cared for briefly by two lusty tongues that wander off again but have a promised plan to seek her dew of love and his, which complements all silly words that did, if one looks to the past came true and rose like tulips of the plains to moist and greedy lips where droplets cling to skin aglow with lava burn a fire deep within fed by a meteor, sent by a cloudless sky. He pauses now, no time will wait for them, though essences abound engulf the mountain tops the twins beyond the sea, reason suspends itself by way of willing flesh the circle closes now, surrounds a felon's skin made velvety, and glistening again to glide into a rising tide unknown to all and to the infidels, to mediocre souls and man's indifference, his inhumanity to man. Two souls have met without regard to Gods, to devils of the deep, and, like the waking touch, their fingers intertwined, they will remain a delta force par excellence, saliva's salty kiss mixed with the heat of night.