Bathing In October

Breakfast? Tea with milk and honey.
Weather? Doesn't look too sunny.
Stomach? Ticklingly disturbing,
dipped digestives won't help curbing.

First cues of the day are given,
furthermore by duty driven -
key? right pockt. Pencils? cased -
tea and home are left in haste.

Expectations? Hard to bear.
But - vibrations in the air?
O my goodness, fucking hell -
pheromonautumnal smell!

Storm stirred nature, warm bright coloured,
juts as if Adonis hollered:
"I am waiting, fuck me, bitch!"
in a hypnotizing pitch.

Storm heat stiffens tender nipples
while the sun lit leaf sea ripples
backed by grey, convulsing sky.
Grade of pleasure? Rather high.

Leaning on wind's cosy pillows,
getting combed by golden willows,
extacy makes body falter,
turns it into goose bump altar.

Clouds are dying to decease,
in their throes they now release
waterfalls. I hear your cue:
"I am coming!" - I am, too.

Working day? An easy path.
On tonight? A bubble bath.
Feel so drunk and yet so sober -
love this bathing in October!