I dream-fucked you last night so
it’s just as well we won’t be bumping
into each other in the flesh until
I’ve had time to get hold of myself.
We were both enjoying ourselves
and each other with unleashed gusto
but of course you weren’t actually
there unless you happened to dream
the identical dream, in which case
I’d want to be seeing you asap.
Abundance! Laughter at our joyous
abandon, which was all mine, I guess,
being my dream. Wild flower fragrant,
you flaunted your native country,
your soft rolling hills, undulating plains,
dew-soaked, fecund ravine that I ravished
with wet kisses and nibbles accepted
as your due for simply being bounteous.
When tongued, you would’ve lost it but
I withheld just long enough to press
my patient cock into moist holiness.
All playfulness turned into combined,
concerted give and take where thought
focuses on frenzy until the big bang
ceases to be mere theory.
Allan Lake is originally from Saskatchewan. He has lived in Vancouver, Cape Breton Island, Ibiza, Tasmania & Melbourne. Poetry Collection: Sand in the Sole (Xlibris, 2014). Lake won Lost Tower Publications (UK) Comp 2017 & Melbourne Spoken Word Poetry Fest/The Dan 2018. Poetry Chapbook (Ginninderra Press, 2020): My Photos of Sicily.