It is a strange thing to fade within
The self, becoming
One with the pale white jar that contains
The mind in all its solemn grey,
As such do I wonder if this fate
Was self-chosen or inborn, but
More and more I come to the conclusion
That I am a brain.
I am a brain.
Scholarly nigh perpetually.
Reduced to a processing information.
Deductions. Conclusions. Philosophy.
More and more the tangible world
Has become foreign
To me, and it is ever so rarely
That I descend into the physical realms
Dictated by the deficiencies
Of my humanity.
There is a book I’m trying to read,
Yet the words,
They cannot speak to me;
They do not build the open world I seek
Where hidden paths are illuminated
By synaptic scintillation.
This hunger remains
Between the lines, no, between
Each individual letter
And I, more mind than matter, am baffled,
Confused and rattled; appalled
By my own incapacity to supersede
These images flashing in front of my retina;
Each blink but a short interruption
Of the indomitable movie.
I am appalled
Because I do not love her.
There is not even a volatile desire
For a shared future.
Not a single prognosis could ever justify
Her invading and dominating
The realm of my mind
Like she does,
Tearing me down,
Back into this body I am used to do without.
I do not find her beautiful. She does not
Yet she is sex in the flesh,
Exuding the premise of bodily pleasure
From her every pore. She has
An aura of passion;
Of ecstatic gratification,
Wild and unbound and free from inhibition.
And in her liberty she is my polar opposite;
Lascivious, she breaks
My will so rigid;
Unwritten rule by morals dictated;
The terms of engagement I have always
Seen as self-evident for me to
Share this body.
This body that I do not feel, yet now do feel
As images flash to play her intrusive movie.
Her eyes, that do not stare lovingly, rather
Fixate in a penetrating gaze to see
The payoff of her mouth’s work;
Her lips, that do not invite a
Kiss, rather long to be
Twirling tongue. Concave cheeks.
Her lips, her luscious lips;
I feel my lips,
My mouth exists and longs to bite, frenzied,
Leaving marks on her curvaceous body;
My lost tongue turns restless in its
Desperate want to taste her; hot
Blood surges through my veins
Now my hands ache to feel
Her back arching in them
When I in twofold
Hot blood surges through my veins
As this body aches to be.
My body. I have
I want to fuck her madly.
Such a strange epiphany. Have I not been
Stripped from every desire then?
I cannot answer for myself, there is no way
To justify this virulent need when
One has a will so rigid.
The life, so austere, on the verge
Of becoming senseless.
How dire it is to know
This tediously maintained self-control
Can be blown right out of the window,
For reasons no other than
By heart, mind, and soul,
Yet someone my body cannot resist.
How dire it is to know
One can be taken over wholly
At a simple succubic snapping of fingertips,
Like a marionette of meat, will-less,
Driven by the long abolished
I cannot give in.
Her dominion is like a demonic possession.
This hunger must remain
8-12-2019, M.A. Tempels ©