Beds Freak Me Out

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“I’m freakishly scared
Of boxes on four posts,
With mattresses on top.
I’m forever wary
Of layers of down,
Of the comfortable seduction
That expects to touch
A bit of my dreams
And to eye-witness
Most of my
Filthy ecstasy.

I like it in the car,
I love it in the bath-tub.
And on the floor

The pleasure is even
Harsher, fiercer
and stronger.

I cannot imagine how
Someone could repose
On a soft man-made island
Inside four dead walls
One fine day
And then the next
Use the same
To righteously fornicate
Under consent of
The King, of course.

While grassy fields and glades
Lie bare and largely ignored.
No warm human bodies
Twined amidst the raw.
The sounds that emanate
From my lust-choked throat
Cannot be drowned
By mere stereo music
And diaphanous city walls.
I’d rather do it afloat
In the midnight lake
Or indulge my frolicking

Deep within damp cave stones.

Under winking stars,
I would love to lie
While ferns stroke my hair
And twigs tickle your thigh.
In the windy storm,
I would cling to your mouth.
Like a hardy vine
Bite you purple
And make you
Ruffle me strong
in the branches,
Till the sooty sky
Collapses in me,
Till the faint edges

Of wind-blown leaves
Start sketching themselves

On the canvas of dawn.

The living room couch is
Not a bad place too,
Even the sofa is big enough
Don’t let the size deceive you.
But somehow deep down,
I already know
That bean-bags, fluffed up furniture
And other man-made things
Just don’t do justice
To the art of
Wildly fucking!”

Enjoy the Poetry of Koni

~ And More from Poetry After Dark

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