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Tasty Knees

in the dark of touch
my face pressed heavy
to your head i open
my eyes and see the
night hair of you dark
as the lightless black
of a warm womb's interior,
your wetness inviting touch
your earth quakes, shakes and opens
as my rod my staff
slides across your ground
though i want to scream i
resolve to remain mute
as a militant refusing to snitch
to the improper authorities, but
suddenly, a riot of joy breeches my resolve
and i disperse the moist quiet of our union
with an involuntary shout loud
as a bull elephant's triumphant ejaculation

of course i am exaggerating, but my, my, my
your knees did taste some good, yeah

Written by Kalamu Ya Salaam


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