Pools Of Civilisation

I would blow her mind inside a second's pause -
to hold back the inevitable is folly,
these moments though are like screams;
footsteps from the gods on our cold lives,
this hard metallic existence is a certainty,
everyone loves and hates me in equal measure,
or at least that is my personal belief,
people seem to desire me, my chambers.
Her tears are soft ripples of agony's regret,
they wash the atmosphere's splendour with ease
as the final moments collect on finely painted skin,
she wants to pull me into her broken thoughts,
I am sure she will go that extra distance soon,
there's hope in her eyes too, though it's dying,
but nevertheless, it is there and it shivers
with an explosive knowledge; too late!

This is the beautiful dance I was created for,
to splinter matter into a thousand shards
and feel the life rush towards dark skies,
all those dreams are to be explored by my tongue
as her body connects with my orgasmic grin,
sparks of passion are a fingerprint's swirl.
With the speed of sensuality's demise
I crash against the carpet's colourful patterns,
the insane ritual's over now, sadly,
she joins me on the floor's pools of civilisation,
there's a kiss smoking in the aftermath
as the light leaves a poem on her face.