Context of Chaos

I can reach that stage of blissful annihilation
any time I want, and it feels good
Who are we kidding? It feels fucking great
That peak of pleasure, that oblivion of sense
The descent into chaos

At that moment, it makes no difference
that I’m by myself or that I’m with you or another
or everyone in the world
Chaos doesn’t care
but chaos doesn’t last

The context of the maelstrom matters
not when I’m in it, when the moment is all there is
but to either side
Before, right to the very edge
After, down from the peak or up from the abyss

Surrounding the borders of self absorption
of being lost in the now
That’s where the furtive or bold solo or coupling
shows me presence of another as much as presence of myself
Context framed by your proximity

Then ecstasy becomes not just a goal, but an escape
however temporary, from absence.
or from presence of the right, and the wrong
Solving the problem of want and need by having all and nothing
for a few heartbeats

Until obliteration ends
order is restored
I come to my senses
reach for you
whether or not you were there all along

Categories: Erotica, Monocle, PoetryTags: , ,


I am the little devil on your shoulder, stroking your neck with my tail, whispering obscenities into your ear, and looking down your blouse. One third of The Erotic Writer blog.


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