Sensual Experiences

An acrostic dizain poem of loving small yet maybe nonsense pleasures, here on Earth, and in “heaven”

Picture I sent of my runner’s legs to my gay friend in May — he was very pleased

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Earthly elements in them I do soak
Pleasantly hot water after long runs
Still, I assure you I’m both and not woke
Only aware mine and your bullshitions
MLMs suck cents, beware attentions
Still, I lounge in my imagined haven
All the while, don’t care spell cast by coven
Love scene and not imaginary friends
Teaching me my mentors, baker's dozen
So long as we live, I know has no end

A dizain poem, a French form often used for love poems, but by me for many other subject matters, contains 10, 10-syllable lines with an ababbccdcd end rhyme scheme.

I have no idea if an Epsom salt bath provides more relief than a standard hot soak, or if any hot soak provides more than sensual relief, but short of sex or a blow job after a run, it feels damn good; and I can picture the others with the lavender-scented candles burning, music playing, and Lindsey being alive, replaying the night we met.