A Poem by Joshua Stelling

Sex is not a demon

Says the man with the horns

I look in his eyes and see


Your body is my temple

He says with my dick

In his hands

In the orgasm of

Celestial impertinence

We spiral out like galaxies

From the beginning to the end

Stretching our toes as if to express


To let out the feeling

Of a tongue on teeth

To breathe in you

Breathing in me

To give to you

What you give to me

Sex is not a whisper

But a drink of wine

You are internal


Get into me

The beast is not a burden

From one to the next

We go on with our


Release me

Your body is my temple

Says the man with my stigmata

In his hands

I was born a cosmic child

I was born to give you love

I feel his hands and they are


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