Kirke

In the crowd of
A concert we’re not
Smoking cigarettes
After sex

But I’m holding you
Close as you slowly
Grind
Against me

Standing room
Sensual
Sexual
Savory unliterary

If only the fabric
Understood what
The friction
Means

This heat
Dirty dancing
Between
You and me

Hot and sweaty
Sinful energy
Slow music
Grinding

Telling of desire
In a dim venue
A crowd of people
And I only want you

You make me burn up
And our sweat mixes
I’m moving with your lead
To where the sun goes

At dusk

To where desire knows
Patience is petty

There’s beauty
In this club
Melting clothing
Slowly
With its energy

Take me to where
Your fire comes from

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