ORGASM in a GRAVE; SEX after death

Let it be
the sex that bid no urge to flee
the sweetness
g-spot of our weakness
the romance of dead bones
clocks around the grave time
the sound of marvelous awful tones
when we mate; caudally with  harmony like music rhymes

kissed the edge
caressed each breast
million hours to every single sledge
I’ll borrow infinity to tease you best
if so tensed felt the fleshy  tits
yet not well fed, this pleasure tips
the jealous stop of our awaken kids
our kids gets more your dearly lips

hence first pleased with death for so
here we can love in private toast
I shall finger your soul
entertain your satisfaction with thrust for host
then sag up my tongue on the clit of your spirit
cuddle you for years with no digit
no masking of your moan with pillows
you could grasp the wind when orgasm billows

marathon time slowly; deep and open like a skep
and re-classroom every mating missed step
certainty; is our souls that numb?
imagine the raw savage cent of fresh sex on our tomb
fragrance of new life, that of a nun or virginity's rum.
river down our bony laps, and watch skeletons cum
let's have sex when we dead too.
sounds crazy,just a flick of my imaginations; my point of view