Windows and Miles
Across the skies we see miles of windows,
Buildings stretch as far as we can see,
Yet we can only imagine the activity in those
Windows contain secrets beyond thee.
I suppose she might be clinging to a cubicle
While he bangs her silly in the afternoon
Sunlight, while the rest of the office dutiful
Looks beyond, whistling their simple tune.
Imagine all the board room tables, cherry wood
Sprawled across her legs open his face
Buried inside a tongue fast moving while his wood
Awaits her mouth, working with such haste.
Oh, and the elevators across the city wide active
With the treatment of quickies and soft fuck,
The sort that when you hear about you just live
To have the opportunity one day to be stuck.
On the street corner she waves her hands at him,
A room upstairs with stench and just a bed
He wonders if today might be the day to act a whim
Not realizing in a minute his world might be dead.
The morning skies began to blur as the first plane hit
We all wondered on the morning news the act
Of a misguided pilot until just then another jet split
Through the upper floors to begin a scene chaotic.
We all have this common thread of lust run trough our veins,
Not knowing beyond his cumshot, her climax, their orgasm,
What lies ahead beyond our immediate need remains
In ignorance as the world collapse slow toward a chasm …
Today we glance across the sky in new windows and views
Relieved to know erotica can still exist in shadow’s ruse.