77 (16.10.2014)

Because the mind is the machine of sex
I use it when I'm making love to you
And you're not here and no one else suspects
We do the thing that makes a one of two.
Your breathing changes and I slide inside
You pull me closer still and move your hips
On tenter hooks of friction we both ride
I taste the salt upon your sweating lips.
You arch your back and say you're going to cum
I feel your rhythm soaking through my bones
Though I'm alone my body starts to hum
And in my brain a hammer's cracking stones.
My mind is good and we make love you see
Though you're a lonely hundred miles from me.


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