Our journey

Daydreaming was never enough...

religion never suited me,

witchcraft was just fine...

 I’ve felt like a tramp for so long.

I thought I belonged to my mother

and even to my father...

then I thought I belonged to any of the gods,

my ancestors prayed to...

but I was wrong,

I couldn’t be more wrong,

I belonged to you,

to the messy warm bed sheets

which make up the sanctuary where I profess my love,

I belong to you,

my skin is just an extension of your when your fingers land on me,

then I let my lips whisper your name,

and it heats up the air...

your sweet name prickles my senses,

my lips dive into yours and I thaw thoroughly

until I’m nothing else than what you  mould with your hands...

you’ve become the erotic potter,

and I’ve turned into the vase where you seed your love.

We both know we’ll never pass our last names to future generations,

however, we’ll stay together until death do us part...

after all, we’ve been together for twelve years now...

and this is definitely just  the beginning of our journey.