Zanzibar

I will speak no more of Zanzibar, I promise you

The river Euphrates will fade from my imaginations’ view

The tide has taken gilded dreams far away to the open sea

This place I once loved to speak of is now forbidden, taboo for me

I will censor my thoughts to silence, bind them to the practical, forever

 oil the ordinary machinery towards feet and feeding and hunger

 I will find blankets that cover, for the cold winter night

I will fight, the urge coming like the ocean waves in mid flight

. 

The touch of lips, soft, moist, sweeter than the figs off the vine

Mahogany skin smooth, silken rose peddles to caress, sublime

The joy of friction driven desire moving breathless

  weightlessly lingering, floating in pure moments of bliss  

 fantasy has become the enemy of reason, stabbing,    

  needles of silken cotton pink fingernails deliciously tormenting

 saturated with perfume, pulling me in    

 intoxicating evening shades, naked, unashamed, glistening

under diamond stars, the brightest moon, the night ever sees  

but, I have promised, I will speak no more of Zanzibar.