Vexed Panting

My blood is panting like on an African Safari.
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I was kept on a journey that tasted like a volcanic fantasy and destination.
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My body raved of a secret understood only between the curves and rising agent which belong to me.
Silently my eyes remember what great presence your sincere frame belongs to.
The life which is being witnessed by the balanced giving of your charity.
You bite just enough to keep my mind on a vexed motivation.
I’ve known you to be a seed planter, and you carefully drop this amidst the growing perimeters.
You speak with a delighted gesture of peace, and a piece of me is grand as it is aware.
This is not a flaunted boasting of your most tempting rewards, rather humble auctions of your sensual blessings.
Actually, I’ve become familiar with the ground as I am grasping for air.
My body aches as it conveys a breaking down of carnal indulgence like I’ve never experienced before.
Messages are being tracked within the vessels of my words unto you.
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