How far down?

Obsessing
Valley's and Paths
Known.
Tugging at tension
Promising
Release...

"I'm here"
I whisper
Longing in union
Aching the same
Tarnished by smog;
City; Human
Sprawl.

"Ain't it clear, when I'm near you..."
"I'm just dyin' to hear you..."
"Callin, my name one more time."

Echoing

"...makin' me mad."

"...burn in my skin."

This prose does more
Than to traverse into Cochlear caves

It embeds, shreds, dreads
Lamented wake.
And yet I reach
Grasp and capture-
That moaning fuckin' ache

To bury it-

Between ears, arms, and
Legs.

It fits well there
In the muggy home of hope
Where slick error and ardor
Copulate- even in the absence, of
Cock.

And I'm curious-
How far down, is his half-eaten heart?

For who the fuck gave him permission
To structure words, and harmonize
The decadent woe of Love
So strung out on seething loss-

And groping for more...?