Caviar - A First-Timers Tryst (continued)

Explosive beads of salty warm brine pop

between thy teeth, they squirt upon thy tongue.

In elegant wads they go down the top,

the throat knows not from where these treasures come.

Ecstacy in an ocean of my lust,

equilibrium can now be achieved.

In Rubus Occidentalis we thrust,

in vacuo, in utero, we cleave.

Under the sea I hear only two things,

my own heartbeat and memories of you.

Resurrect my conscious as through a spring,

climaxing for that which remains untrue.


Running full speed toward a bayonet,

I flee disillusionment and regret.