Wind blew through my hair like it did
Inside of your unbuttoned shirt that
Exposed your landscapes that I want to roam.
Feeding upon ground, your body like the sun and I
Spin around just for the anticipating
Sound of your pleasure.
Not even able to measure, a
Sacred interaction that withheld a treasure.
I’ll lick your lips in the streets any day.
But I’ll make love to your mouth in the
Dark and private spaces anyway.
Bounce yourself upon my bed and leap onto my lap,
You know where to direct yourself,
No need for a map, and
Once poised upon my thrusts and my hips you’re on,
My envelopment is the tightening wrap.
A NYC native, Mikal is a prolific writer who uses his art as a tool for self exploration in a spiritual dynamic. He teaches yoga and metaphysics, and created Mushakka as a platform to share his teachings and work. You can find him on Instagram, and he can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.