naz poetry spot

sitting on a tree...

me and you, sitting on a tree

the summers wind blows,
your hands griping the firm bark
holding for dear life as the motioning of the living tree bends to the winds will.
it sways from top to the very roots bottom.

me and you, sitting on a tree

hear the sounds of weeping willows.
as the air blows
a soft ass sits restlessly gyrating on that firm smooth wood... hold on tighter as i grip that ass so round its bound to make some sound. those strong branches now grow tight around me.

me and you, sitting on a tree

you let me milk your bark, you let me smack that hide... find the knot and peck us a hole. you let me find that nest and warm your eggs. you let me plant my seed and soak your soil. let, the tree of life be born again. the let tree of knowledge for right and wrong. grow strong, i'll need its strength. I'm sinful and bound to sin again. let us eat the fruit of our blissful labor.

me and you sitting on a tree

fresh flowing maple, strong dark sap... wakes ageless amber, spark life and fire in you. being in you seeing that burning bush it speaks to me. now a prophet! when we climb down this tree i'm going to tell the pharaoh i fucked his wife! Hard!

Hard as wood!

let them remember... let them know...

let the children sing, me and you, sitting on a tree...
k - i - s - s - i - n - g

-Naz