The: Mirror
 

The Mirror
by Dapharoah69 Copyright @ 2006.



Every time I pass a mirror
there I go.
Brandishing.
Making love to my reflection
my lips...
vanishing.
Once cold, once alone,
once lonely...
once:
hibernating...
so beautiful in my birthday suit and black boots
running shaking hands all over my own image...
my body, my heart, my mind:; my soul...
crashing...
with fingerprints sulking on the cold glass...
steam from my watery voice moist,
spreading,
on the hard surface...
I live for the fog...
I run my tongue across the smog;
gyrating my voluptuous hips
to the bleating of ceiling fan blades
cutting into my thoughts
they evade...
dancing.
With my ever uncensored hands,
they probe, control,
manipulate,
tantalite...
This wicked trance
has me...
falling on the cold tile floor,
dying inside the gentle strokes of my wrist,
how tight I am on my fingers,
I feel me, feel you,
watching you watching me in disbelief:
I am a slave to the pleasure;
I am toying with Mother Nature!
pulsating, debating, taunting,
so demandingly tormenting!
reborn into something
filled with orgasmic bliss...
as I perform for my reflection,
watch me, be me,
sense me, beckon me...
now I'm moving lips;
too moist to do anything...
nasty.
Oh God there I go
kissing myself,
loving myself
throbbing, pulsating along the gentle lines
of serenity, tranquility
damn sure wickedly classy.
My cheeks jiggling, vibrating
demanding, provoking...
my erect nipples and testicles...
casting...
Take me
baby touch me
sense me, smell me
yearn me
to throw me inside
something that has me...
dashing.
Prancing all over the room
not taking my eyes off my image
I imaging myself:
inside me,
cumming through me
sense me, smell me,
taste me, feel me
become me as this wicked trance
has me...
dancing...
reborn into something fancy, orgasmic,
brandishing, vanishing,
gyrating my sweaty hips
as I continue falling, dying,
standing, shivering, staggering...
trembling uncontrollably
brandishing my image in the mirror.
an inch away from my naked reflection...
my wet hands resting on the glass,
my face soft, pleased,
spent,
drained as I softly sing to myself.
Reflecting...