a poem

THUNDER STORM

She dances in one swift move across the purple-blue thoughts of Detroit Twilight
hair wild
back arched
legs spread
each perfectly painted, climax-colored toenail, pointed.
she grasps at the heavens as she thrashes
weightless
against his force

He hums
a cacopheuphonic surge of audible ardor
a rolling mellow moan, elusive to male trachea
his divine violaceous force
trembles
stirring neighbors from their slumber
to gaze from distant windows

i gaze

watching as, against his rhythms,
she laughs
wildly
biting
seizing
clawing at the fleshy 'S' of his back
creating the shape of God's spine with all ten lunula
ripping open universes
etching an exotic abyss
into which they both begin to

pour

infinity becomes
fluid
as stars begin to
melt
a molten passion
precipitates
onto the shared humidity
forming cool drips of familiar
ecstasy