From 2008 this expression of the "feral rising within me" as the poet recovered from the break up with the totem-muse Aubergine.
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I want to touch you and feel your skin against mine
a consummation divine. the wine of your sweat, wet
and yet not as wet as you will get when we set ourselves
up for a fall, all the angels and angles against us, lust
dusting us with the hunger you raise in me, to see
how long I can bear to stare before I must feel you,
seal you with my flesh and oaths as you take me in,
break me in to your desires and fires, inspiring me
to see how long, how strong your wordless song
can sustain when the pain is washed away in sweet heat
that burns from eyes to feet and back again, as much
as you want, as I would haunt your every corner,
honor bound to sound deep inside you to convince you
that I'm here for more than to taste you, to waste you
like the hollow lovers of the past, casting their shallows
into the hallows of the temple of your body. to surrender
to one who is not pretender and wants more than a moment.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.