DAVID MOMENTS
The moment he saw me he hoped I was wanting
momentous occasion: this flesh & blood haunting,
This moment of pleasure…
This moment in time…
When ancient sprite child shed his light sublime.
Born with nails painted and oh so alive,
The boy smelled of bliss & Chanel Number Five,
And he taught the teachers respect for their oaths...
A reminder that closets are only for clothes.
Though he has no car he's remarkably driven,
A virginal whore for whom nothing's forbidden,
Reckless & wonderfully achingly free,
Yet he's never watched porn and he’s never had me,
He’s not even known me as more than a stint,
Yet he knows my last name is a hard street to sprint,
He knows his craving like the back of his hand,
He gasps for strangers with insistent demand,
But he doesn’t grasp danger's depravity lever
so it’s hard to believe he's had cavities never.
This Blowjob Queen is so pure he's obscene,
A man hunting child from the age of thirteen,
When sexcipades started with "straight" boys & thunder,
When fairy boy swallowed & awakened a hunger:
A craving for cocks that could never be sated,
A raving for jocks & yet he is not jaded,
He is not horrid though he is beholden,
His magic: a must...
Tragedy & Lust...
This combination makes our moments golden.
He doesn’t quite stay, though he trims the strays,
He does not regret or seek to lay blame...
His smiles are sound, for Chicago he's bound...
And he has a twin that does not look the same.
He is young and he's sweet & he is not complete,
He's empty yet filled with the depth of his soul...
He's bits & he's pieces yet he never ceases...
And he remains wild while he's in control.
When basted or rimmed he’ll return you the favor,
When tasted the world seems to dim with his flavor,
He’s blunt & his voice is missed when online,
And he’s fun to have over (if he’s home around nine):
A new Cinderella avenged in his art,
A community unity theater tart,
Who’s sexy shy smile could turn you to stone,
Or melt you apart,
Right down to your heart,
And fill you with treasured pleasure unknown.
Truly he’s adverse congenital perfection,
For he inspires far more than erections,
There are also the dreams
& of course the desires;
He devours the very things he inspires…
He could swallow himself or so I've been told,
'Cad Flap It' but Christ, is that nice boy so bold,
He listens to all things while guarding the lives
of swimmers in water from slaughter & knives.
An artist who's read more than Lord of the Rings,
A tapestry's thread often spindled by flings
with never an equal though perhaps that's by choice;
afraid that to do so might stifle his voice,
Or perhaps he is simply moving so quickly,
that the thought of such stillness
is akin to an illness,
And who but a few
limply long to grow sickly?
I'm his fragmented shadow; a prism on fire
in moments like these when inflamed by desire
I'm amazed by control I developed last year:
my wanting of him is now perfectly clear.
And though he is perfect, he's perfectly flawed,
And though he is normal, he's normally odd,
He seems to be naturally calm yet he’s flared,
This was made known in the moments we shared.
But our moments were fleeting
and in moments they ended,
Driving him home I was glad I befriended
the man merely wanting impalement by Vlad...
I learned that & more in the moments we had.
Our innocent moments were wholly perverse,
Our moments were blessed by a most subtle curse,
For we were aroused yet we stayed legitimate,
Abstaining from sex made our each moment intimate.
And when our legs touched
thoughts of fucking him much
confounded my brain in the shadow of wishes...
He was the devil,
And I was disheveled,
Yet we said goodbye with the chastest of kisses.
And those moments made me both smile & blush,
Without a denial,
Completely with trust,
Completely enraptured & I could not ignore...
That those David moments left me wanting more.
Written By Jason Wright
FEBRUARY 7, 2006
For: David Ian Grant
We should do it again sometime.