Ithyphallic

I. (Lust's infernal past...) An insane lust that burned above the weft of incandescent stars given by the foul snake of despair whom left these present scars still drips from his fangs that range my sanity to rend apart for the stigma of my taste, long before I locked my heart; I became evanescent when I drowned in the deep lagoons of her eyes that sweetened the shadows of where I stood mesmerized setting me upon a gilded dream of fervent and exotic delights in the fragrance of pheromones that scented the schemes of night; I was hooked on her scent in the blinding flare of passion with forced virtue and the water of autonomy never rationed for we fucked on beds that were ransacked and maledicted, then to her precious celestial lips I became avidly addicted. II. (The yonic and the phallic) I can not resist the spells of her fertility in pheromone control, I fall anæmic from ardent lust as I pour her my wine... and soul; one night of bliss, she descended to me in full submission, claiming her swiftly that her cunt became a vampyric addiction; her warm lips fervoured my neck like an erotic maladie that infects to enamour me in a sexual portrait of atrocity as my penis poignantly penetrated her with a mutual effect expending my lust that her veins collapsed as seduction injects; stirring up our feverous desires, fucking on a bed of black velvet, our mandragora like bodies behind curtains like a silhouette, rubbing our ravenous loins together in puritanical tantric ways as my legs ignite, it were as if we would fuck to our graves. III. (A masque of erotic stains) I am enamoured and imparadised by hysterical motions of flesh, midst the whirl of lascivious acts breathing erotica at its best that greeted nothing but pleasure from this enthralling night that sharpened the splendour of her caress by candlelight; my restless tongue upon her vulva, rubbing her alabaster thighs, her cunt twitching against my kiss and weeping with new life; she moans a perfect stitch of foreign notes before she weans with her silky timbered limbs in the palace of my dreams; in a whirl of sweet voices speaking her name in whisper rolls the taste of her essence on my tongue, lest this memory dissolve; though no malice had daunted me in the dead of night my memories occur to burn the leaves of sin, smitten by her delight.