Only Between Thighs

“You cannot petition the Lord with prayer!”
             Jim Morrison

Only between thighs
(your thighs now all thighs),
can I drive towards salvation,
touch divinity with my lust
while invading desire,
feel yet again
how reality manifests.

Only when gripped
by raging carnal fever,
lashed by waves
of relentless passion,
can I ever hope to capture
glimpses of enlightenment.

Only in frenzies
of erotic inspiration,
my faith craving flesh
and the rawness of fire,
can I find the way home
beyond jungles of sanity.

Only embraces
of naked abandon
can set my soul free
to imagine eternity,
transcend all illusions
of temporal existence.

Only as I feast
on lips between thighs,
mouth madly exploring
hungry portals of dream,
does my self expire
and I become the other.
Thighs, lips, dreams, you.
Without these, no redemption.

Only on pyres
of unrestrained sex,
all thought burned to ashes,
do I truly petition God.
The answers resound
in poetry’s creation.