Honey Tasting Dreams

Incubus
(c) 1979

 Wet honey tasting dreams on lonely nights

And I fight the feeling to admit that

Something in or about you

Is not quite real.

My mind wanders back

Embracing hot memories

Shared on lustful nights

Between burning sheets.

A small voice intrudes over your shoulder

Maliciously taunting me

As I jubilate in your arms.

“Get up lady, be afraid, get dressed, go home, disappear and never sleep again!”

I deny the voice

It has no substance

You are here, warm beside me.

Again the voice warns

“Deny the feeling swelling inside.

Be afraid.

Forget. Run away!”

But I have not been frightened by many things

In my life.

Thus the mockery is stifled beneath pleasurable groans

As my senses, my thoughts digest

The smell of your warm desirable body atop mine

And as we soar together

Around Venus, Pluto, Neptune

I am not afraid.

The voice ejaculates once more.

“Get up, wash yourself,

Cleanse your mind of passion filled dreams.”

But I feel the throb of your manhood within me,

The strength of your sweaty arms around me,

And I feel you

Wanting me as I want you.

The finale.

The coronation.

One burst of unified energy and we end the voice’s intrusion.

And I say to its retreating formlessness

Damn you!

I will have my pleasures.

I will have my dreams.