Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I dream of women in my deep sleep, said
Solbutton, their beauty causes my twists
And turns, their kissing lips on mine bring me
To the boil, steam me up for the coming

Day. They come to my broad bed in their droves,
Their pattering feet make a beeline for
My love and lust, their whispered words echo
On the cold white walls. One of many comes

Between the sheets, her brunette hair brushes
Against my face, her warm breath heats my own,
Her naked breasts snuggle against my chest
Like sleeping children at rest. My father

Sank his lust in my mother’s hollow, her
Cries kept me from sleep at night, her wounds walked
The rooms for years and years, the scars of his
Penetration marred her smiles. I turn and

Twist in my sleep, the big blonde nestles in
My arms, her soft hair brushes my chin, her
Tiny tits like small mounds in a wash of
Snow, she sings Mozart arias as we

Fuck, the headboard banging loud as we go.
I turn and turn in my dream, the red head
Embraces me in her arms, her tattooed
Thighs bring glamour to the night, they spread like

Gates to the kingdom of Eve. My mother
Drowned in her bath, her wrists slit, the water
A Rothko wash of red, laying, eyes closed,
Dead. I awake to the light of dawn and

Day, the women have fled to the dark and
Night, the brunette, the blonde, the redheaded
Whore, all have closed their arms, thighs, hearts and eyes
And whisper words or breathe on me no more.

Great erotic poetry with a bent, surreal picture...

thank you, Steve.