In thinking on the matter,
feelings of lust and love
can’t originate in the heart.
A heart is merely a muscle.
The sensuality and
sultry want
of another human being,
must come from
a more spiritual place,
a central core,
somewhere deep within.
Passion felt is wonderful.
It’s like wanting
a vast, impossible
total body merge.
Like a blue clay
smushed
with a pink clay,
love and lust being
the resultant color.
Making love is
the closest thing we have
to total oneness.
True intimacy is, well,
the penultimate
SMUSH.
CJ, I can't wait to run around and ask women if they wanna 'smush'. The results should be interesting. Great poem! ! Kenneth
Yes, Rusty, you may certainly chuckle! Thank you, now smush away! Hugs, CJ
CJ, I hope I was supposed to chuckle, cause I did. Will my wife understand if I ask her if she wants to SMUSH? This is brilliant. Rusty
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Smush is such a great word! You've started something here. Love it! Chrissie