Amidst something else of yours

I dreamt of you last night,
I was on top of you,
alas it was only the sheet,
intense heat of the groin,
unbearable when
you turned, on your belly,
as if to entice,
then I pressed forcefully,
the way you received me,
serene, it was you, your nape,
shoulders, ardour,
as well as your desire for me,
I thrust, shifted,
I was even motionless inside you,
to prolong time,
to wait for you,
it was three thirty,
you immobile, your hands raised
to the sides of your face, open,
legs only slightly outstretched,
then you drew them in,
I felt your muscles contract
and release under my abdomen,
they vibrated and with my chest
I became one with your back,
we were one and the same voice.
Nothing more.

Were you there when
I had this dream?
I went on just a few instants more,
on the damp warmth all mine,
eternal, then I got up,
I made coffee,
thinking I would eat you,
yes, pussy eaten, eaten
where certain things of yours
are in the midst of something else
strictly yours,
where there is love, our souls,
reality and other, what is left
when the remainder is only the awakening.

© Copyright 2023 Mauro Giovanelli “Seventy-nine writings or thereabouts”, life, love, death and the usual… “Settantanove scritti o giù di lì”, vita, amore, morte, i soliti discorsi… 2° edizione –

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