I Will Come Again To This Place Poem by dan hightower

It’s a swirling mystery, the wet sanctity as it spirals and twists the furlongs of turns tempting to turn and twist at each new corner, eyes shooting like stars upwards to satisfaction, the rolling pupils eyeing the openings of newly formed sensations forming sensitive sections of previously flaccid now rigid surface areas as they have grown to enjoy the growth of sorts in the areas of surfaces smoothed by lubricated intrusions, infused is the glorious sight of it all as it disappears into the heavenly abyss of sparks tingling the tips of tendrils, spies in the house we are, transgressing the ordinary to achieve the extraordinary, slowly and with a rapid insurgence of knowledge that goodness lies between the lips, the slightly parted envelopes developing and enclosing on the member of society responsible for society’s members, I smile and decide I will come again to this place…