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Let Me Love You All Day and All Night
A Poem
Like lovers lost in the ether of dreams, we find one another in the mist, dear Asha, and the mother of invention asked me to write these poems but be discreet about our tryst, keep an air of class to what is otherwise a sloppy set of circumstances.
I’m like a stone — solid, but only caring for one thing: your body under mine, whether it be in an aquatic setting or while watching basketball.
With your hand touching me I feel a joyous sensation, one that makes me forget about how much of a worrisome ass I can be.
It’s just a suggestion, but can you use the other hand?
Then, surely, we’ll bask in the tent of the wealthy, lacking the fierce determination it takes to ascend to the throne, but rich nonetheless.
I want to infuse you with my passion, but you already have enough for both of us, so much it would take a calculator to tally it all up.
We’re like the axiomatic rabbit, built for this kind of recreation.
To live a life in any other way is unnatural, and as I said in a previous stanza, your love is most bountiful, to climb the slope of it would take all day.
But you instruct me on how to best worship your body, even before the buzz with which I enter your domain.
