Tantric Vibrations

In the night,

I dreamt our reality awake,

square and rectangle bedrooms

filled with naked bodies,

men and women,

telling half-truths mixed

with cum and sweat

and lingering lies,

dark staircases in the void,

winding downward

to nighttime visions

of fucking in doorway frames,

muses and seraphim,

cunt and dripping,

asses slapping against hard cocks,

oral sex in showers,

weeping and craving,

dancing and fringing on

astral minds,

chaos and light,

fire burning embers,

teasing and quivering

through the tasty twilight,

ghosts and their peripheries,

erotic choreography that you like to watch,

me swaying to the rhythm of the witching gods,

magic told through the body,

urging on prophecies and tantric sex

with supple jazz and vibrations

and telepathy voices

in the early mornings.

I woke up and heard you

and died,

wanting that cold wind

on my hot face,

driving slow and then fast,

down winding roads,

over mountains,

in valleys with stars

describing us,

entwining you and I,

making us drench in classic art and reverie.

Born again,

we unite in smoke and illusion.