Delirium at a toilet's door

The skin releases
This hazelnut kind of smell
Which pinches the air
appearing hot and melted
like Sweat
that drips
and warms

Rips a ephemeral scrape
Of member banality
And this second pulses
In a lewd way
On the chests
Where then dwells
tepid
damp
petted
forever.


Pulsions like these you don’t erode
An orgasmic deliverance of the idea
And of what is the figuration of desire
Exteriorized by the curl of four arms
And two necks
The bosom that breathes upon the bosom
With hearts that pump upon each others
Arrhythmitized
In roars and howls
Grunts of two wild species
Febrile
And we only holded hands
And we passed them by the bristle hair on our arms
With closed eyes
Without exciding the ephemeral delectation
The groans turn into hiccups
And we pull our fingers deep down to our bones
Sunken on the honeyed skin
But it doesn’t hurt
He is a gentle boy
I fear that this will languish at this point
And it truly languishes
Maybe I’ll embrace it
Two scorching orbits
That wamble in climax
Lonely at a toilet’s door
So then
My biological body forces me
To act humanly
And I leave
to do what you best do
in toilets.