Love Making Grows Poem by James McLain

There is my body tonight.
I am open to your long growing cravings.
It is inactive being quiet, warm moon.
You have nor I will as one I have paused.
Stuck through to the valley I leave.
Abused confessions you have many I heard.
I stop and pause to listen.
Half way in I am half way out perseverance of God.
You have found the punishment for my avarice.
If I am to be sufficiently slow woe is me.
Where my foot then my finger
it can be wrapped around the north star
and looking south it came once before.
Fruit juice of the Ecstasy moves in the rear.
My veins they flow whose explosion is hot.
Is very loud and starts overflowing get wet is red.
It uses violence for maintaining your order my pace.
Tangled with the hair
where your skin to my touch is under thin fabric good.
Slow me down for your sake as my body
which can feel the knot of tight end formation.
The nerve of your expectation
is the release
where my orgasm which in you is vibrating.
Through the skin where my neck is soft
your mouth I included your personality.
And as my body moves down the final lifting is up to you.