Blessed is the land of Mozambique
for this where you were first concieved.
A beautiful journey through time has
brought you to my reality.
I taste your thigh, I ask my self why?
my mouth burns so sweet.
so strange invokes a latent spirit within
a golden sarcophagus that lay hitherto motionless.
Through a fault of San Andreas proportions,
tectonic plates of emotions transmit shockwaves throughout every living tissue ,
I take a deep breath.
A mathmos of passion bubbles beneath a wafer like crust of consciousness,
erupting through a fissure and forming a hot geyser of realisation.
Your taste is a key of divine specification,
unlocking a portal to days of yore,
and golden memories only,
the chosen can share.