He played pic-a-boobs
with her breast
like a pianist
fiddling the keyboard
looking for that perfect note
to raise the symphony
and excite the brain
causing “loose-control”
thereby poor security
to the gateway
of the paradise
that lie
between her legs.

As he did
signals traveled fast;
faster than the speed of light,
spreading legs open
begging for penetration
which he gladly consented
with no hestitation.

He continued
until there was eruption
that left them both satisfied
but not for too long.

An excerpt from “48 Poems of Humanity”