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.

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