Owls hoot in the oaks

the jasmine is heady,

I look from the window

and watch them together

scoop the moon from

the shimmering surface

drunk & unsteady,

I almost believe

we'll be happy forever

I'm 54 and I'm ready.

I almost believe

we are marked,

we are blessed,

so I'm keeping the vigil

to honour the guest,

with my absolute need

to do the right thing -

we've agreed, we've concurred

I've given my word,

you'll accede and comply

we're putting you first,

with my absolute need

my unequivocal thirst.

Hot afternoon fucks

so urgent we must,

absorbed in the moment

abandoned to lust,

Sinews are taut

muscles are rigid,

the gathering tide

resisting its limits,

this is my sacrament -

the body, the blood,

the burgeoning tide

becoming a flood,

only doing

what any man would.

You are appeased

by the pleasure of pleasing,

the pleading, the kneeling,

the wanting, the needing

to do the right thing -

and in doing redeeming.

Your duty is solemn,

the ritual light,

so Godamn you man

don't fight,

just do as I say,

obey my demands,

its not a suggestion

it's a command -

that is the line

this is the measure,

play with my upright sense

of unrepentant pleasure.

Your spine is a river

I'm tracing it's race,

through the darkest ravine

to the holiest place,

slapping your moody

French ass! Lapping you

up, drinking you in,

with an absolute need

to do the right thing,

There in the shower

Washing your back

caressing your head

With my cock in your crack,

Pressing your face

up against the glass.

Congress of three

divine intimation,

the moon and the jasmine

the men that you are,

I think we are saved

and this is salvation,

for a minute at least

I almost believe.

All of my lovers

romantic and filthy,

you are forgiven

I hope you forgive me,

for now it's implied

that all of creation,

submits and accedes -

and works in accord,