Burning is the 9th sensation.

Burning is the 9th sensation
a candle to peak the irons of me.
A heat that ignites you and something that sets you free.
I find myself in an aquarium. She sits there in comfy clothes
and looks cute and tells us that she has had sex.
Tasted it and did not like the taste. The terror of the dissonance,
but the attraction of her makes you do it. Dream of her
on the bed and you take it away. The pain and frustration of being alone.
Just for those times, the vision blurs and the moans settle.
The eyes settle on another. The life becomes another.
The air breathes yet another to find that your eyes become the ocean
and you mouth becomes the air of which dreams reach reality and tickle
the fabric of the bed with a vibrant texture of gold and scent of nifte and swift action
and rainbows and raspberries and yet boiled strawberries.

I find myself in the dizzy and in the quantum of my eyes and I see the sunshine, it just can't happen
there are too many enemies pegging me down as some bastard bitch negro of a subway target town.
Yet you can never know what anyone feels or anyone knows, you are not them. You are not them.