sexuality is what you think you see

Addicted to the very thought,
The touches and smells,
Sights and sounds,
Imagining and fantasizing,
Excited and awash with desire.
The flames dance higher,
Uncontrolled, barely controlled,
Semi-state of consciousness,
Slips from dream to reality,
And back again before its over.
Its not what you really see,
What you really touch,
Its all that and much more,
Dwelling in the mental realms,
Imagination overwhelms.
The touch of flesh,
The smell of desirous action,
Legs, blankets, sheets intertwined,
Just this side of magical,
So close to being insatiable.
So much, but how much,
Becomes too much,
Moth immolated by the flame,
Too close, destroying self,
Surrendered and released.
At which point does it stop,
Endless wanting, seeking,
Becoming slaves to pleasure,
Taken measure by measure,
For its own sake and no other.
Insatiable lusts carry them,
Over the edge, into the chasm,
For a moments worth of release,
Heavenly, otherworldly,
Slipping the bonds of this earth.
But after the sweat has dried,
After moments of regret,
Crashing back to earth again,
Relegated to unknowable pain,
Guiltless or not, all the same.