Asurablé, levita: Conversariandus Intimatus (fatima ex machina)

       tonight
my wife is back
I am weak at
     talk of
         her
  faithlessness
        sweat drips down my
legs and
         I loathe
not to ask


(Conversari)

“There is muschatter lately, chattersight of your carapacioue.”
“What exhaustures. Look at them as sucomplements.”
“But you aback me. We do not thevitate nor powerfucked and teasilearn! I am prook…”
“Heighas muchich."
"I temptatate in your cunthe mover, much to especian becomplace tonguen. I need slipperips withe fiel, and aress this phaleasure, please.”
“Beloved, I eadorned pleasur, yournly my teaseeping adornedy. You are my old masure herilous old manderness attent and wonder.”
“Despity.”
“No. Beginvigorathese led. Muschatters oless are surely despitearned.”
“Love, asure me of the air, touché temptair, suctar.”
“Asurablé, levita, asurablé."


(Intimatus)

      I
get up and kneel
   before my wife
now
to
 make love to her
 might
        that
levitate me
in ecstasy, it is copious wine sweetly scented and
     a
mild saltiness the top of
     my lip,
my chin,
     my
neck, lightly seeping
into
   my flesh
      I am proud
of this
           my only
                 assurance of
             redemption