Passion Without Flesh All day I picture curves arching under me Dripping the sweat of passion, the heat Jeering at the bodies we use to strain for pleasure Equaled by no other. We quest together for the Coolness and calmness that follows it. Tonight I must make this image into reality. I cannot live on images. Sustenance craves Veritability of pleasure, not phantoms of fever. Each moment stretches into eternity; I Long to run my hand down the spine, cup Each buttock in turn, lick a line of Shivers along the spine hiding behind you. Soon I will make love to you.