I liken you to scotch
Morphine on the radio, that deep bass
In the background has me swaying to the rhythm of you
i imagine the feel of you flowing into me
you burn profondo’, like the liqueur itself
The crevices of me filled by you and your solidity and heat
An energy of ascension and gusty inebriation sends me
Higher into the ethers of us
an elixir for any suffering or pain
a balm like spikenard restorative
a healing worthy of kings
oft sought for
rarely indulged in
always intoxicating
subtly supportive
divinely inspired
distraction nevertheless
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