Solitary Sensuality

It is the middle of the night
And once again I fantasise
And re-imagine some perfect
Combination of conquests,
For want of a much better word,
Amongst other things, spurred
Into solitary but no less fulfilling
Sensuality, visions briefly thrilling
A mind and hands distracted
From more poetic actions,

Before a swift return to clarity,
To brutal euphoric honesty.


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