Indulge Me Sweetheart by John Patrick Robbins

Indulge Me Sweetheart

Behind a locked door, phone off the hook, and a New York winter outside.

We vanished within each other and sweetheart the time was a bliss that still tastes of pleasures we can only consume once.

Old words spoken in false truths,
we gave what little would dare.

Love it was not, but not all wisps of smoke knew the flames of a misspent lives regression.

As in sex we know pleasures shared and nothing all the same.
Never give too much or you may find you lose the need to hide.

We spent that night as stranger’s searching for that which thrives only in moments.

An orgasm is simple now try being bare with your thoughts as well.

We all sacrifice something eventually.

I gave you my mind, and you your flesh for a while.
The storm raged outside the best pleasures laughter is held with unspoken truths inside.

She spoke softly in the nights decline.

“Indulge me sweetheart “, one last time”

Her body a work of art and her mind a red-light district in full service tonight.

What a blissful indulgence it was shared in a room for two.

“All she ever needed to do was ask”.

John Patrick Robbins is a barroom poet professional smart ass and fulltime drinker who's work can be read in inbetween Hangovers , Your One Phone Call. And most everywhere on the net and a few bathroom walls as well.
John Patrick Robbins is a barroom poet professional smart ass and fulltime drinker who’s work can be read in inbetween Hangovers , Your One Phone Call. And most everywhere on the net and a few bathroom walls as well.

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