perversion

What if i decide i want to love, and rest on that red wooden bridge all day and night myself, like hypnotized, a good for nothing, i can have perverted visions, the most intimate, the most rash, impetuous, wild, obscene, all is good, all is authorized, i can fantasize, i want to fantasize, i want to try that mutual trust in intimacy, and let myself try, i want to learn the flesh too, i need support, i need affection, raw affection, a pinch, a slap, a rub, a squeeze, and shake all that, and dive in chaos, push you on the wall in that dark alley, hold your wrist, press your waist, there's a light coming from an open window above us, and caress, under the fabric, down, up, along the lines, the curves, the dents, the damaged, the bizarre, the wet, give me your mouth, your lips, your tongue, your teeth, play with, salivate, share it, lick, savor it, open your legs, feel the cold granularity of the bricks on your back, and my warm, sweaty body touching you, cornering you, stronger, plain physical, a focalization on that present desire, i want it, i want it, i want you, i can dream and just a kiss, a dirty kiss, passionate, real, because there's nothing else to feel right now just that possesing desire of the nasty white skin.

(something we decide to want, but that is not vital, that is not a lack)