How clever you have become since you left the savannah
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by Jeff Levine
your silky fur
has been replaced by spare and mottled melanin
but still you rutt like before
you rutt
Oh, what will I do
with this desire you stir in me
sometimes
alone in my liquid metal cell
I breath hot and fast
not knowing what to do with my spidery hands
I am stirred
you do stir me
I see you are entranced by my black almond eyes,
can you see inside MY hearts
what do you see in my grey skin
It has so little texture, so little color
but you are a starburst of sensation, a galaxy
the scrape of your shorn bristle face,
the nervous curl of the wet hair
beneath your arms
the spectum of fleshly hues therein
reds yellows oranges blues purple and green
I apologize that the restraints were so tight
but ah!
the beauty of your broken capilaries is like spilled...
wine...was it?
I see the glimmer of intellect in your eyes
a wink of kinship in your color muscled irises
and oh!
the white of your eyes in the bright examination light
the flash of your almost sharp teeth
mmh!
could you love me the way I need?
Perhaps... I don’t know
but I know YOUR nerve spots, just under your sparse fur
oh! your brutal muscles
I remember breaking bison
now so supple
a sinewy ripple
beneath your varigrated and moisture
glossed
flesh
like a wave algorythm
like a contained gravity knot, a power you don’t know
a power I have
but you have me
better that I leave
leave you behind by light years
How could I love you forever when I remember your ancestors
furred , frolicksome and lacivious in the trees
they are now sediment in dry ancient seabeds
I will still be here when you are gone
how lonely
my black eyes cannot weep
oh ! would I had teeth to gnash
would I could cry out my desperation
and fill the emptyness between
the stars
Yet I am so small so muted so cold
your passionate massive embrace
could crush my delicate “alien” flesh
if only I could tumble with you
in the warmth of your sun’s frothy seas
I could ease this agony
but I am meant for the void
the cold abcence of light and matter
and long ages of determined patience
how could you know my slow precise desires
you who are so hot fast and compulsive
you thrill me so
you reach some distal part of my origins
an animals call
like your own anesthetized grunts
a deperate need to grip bite and make fluid
perhaps once my kind flew between branches and ate odd fruit
perhaps once my kind were urgent like you
I want to hear your story of alien abduction-turned-romance. *No tales of probing, please.