Black Beauties

                         Heat and sweat profusely emanating, through and around her voluptuous pores.
                         The darkened night transpires as we do, fixed on each other.
                         It is the evening that I dearly love, with it's embalming charades and prospering uncertainties.
                         In the coming of night, the horizon sighs with abandoned relief.
                         Love and poverty elude themselves, and fret meticulously.
                         In her presence I am a god of unsubtle refrain,
                         despairingly retreating onto uncharted demographics.
                         It is the bleak midnight alley that conquers me again.
                          In sordid tales of tongues and legs and reptiles
                         Feel her primitive breath upon my weak shoulders,
                         Where time may elapse onto velvet sunrise,
                          Morning children will laugh at my juvenile affair.
                          They come in the valley. They come in the earth.
                          Some in the soil, some on the turf
                          Passion, is the name of my betrayal.
                          It is black, it is piercing, languid and terminal
                          The forlorn natives I cling to in times like these.
                          Washing my fatigue away with a pair of black beauties.