05 Jan. 00

 

 

ON A FLIGHT OUT WEST

 

 

 

I think of your suggestion

A promise of sexual bliss

The hot sun toasting

Our butts and backs

Our naked flesh

My knees and elbows

Sinking into white sand

Caked

With rivulets of sweat

Your tongue eating my ass

Readying - I am ready

For you to enter

there.

 

 

By

 

 

Everett E. Phillips, III