The Morning After.

You seem to crawl like bugs at the back of my mind,
festering you make me grow, stiffening, hardening,
Groans and moans, why can I hear them here?

I thought I had lost you, I thought I had buried my guilt,
the lingering of musky flesh on my mind denies me.
Why can I taste your cum in the back of my throat?

The rising of the tide, the loosening of the urge,
the thump and stroke that no drum can make,
Why can I feel you in my arms?

What happened in that dark room, that dark place,
lingering in the scents I pull away from this fantasy.
But why can I smell you on my skin?

I pulled your wings off, I pull off the coverings of innocence,
but they were as false as the dawn when you left.
For really you are trapped in this sin with me still,
and how I loved you when you squirm in ecstatic wonder with me.