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Itchings For Ever Exist

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Fox-on-Cross

Great-Cruxinquisitor
Itchings exist:

When I see a girl in mini-dress,
I purchased my favorite porterhouse steak,
expecting my favorite radio programs,
paint the walls white,
drink a beer with cigar,
See the nice maintained park,
hear at night the mysterious owl,
make the decision now or never,
expect already in my breast the stretching arms,
push my head against the wood,
firm my wrists on the hooks,
undergo the omnitension in my flesh,
am silent, wait and wait and wait.
 

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Perplexing in it's negative spacious restrictions. The promise or a prospect forbidden?
Branches spread awaiting harvest or a wish to be seen but for the forest?

There in lies the rub.

:(
 
Itchings exist:

When I see a girl in mini-dress,
I purchased my favorite porterhouse steak,
expecting my favorite radio programs,
paint the walls white,
drink a beer with cigar,
See the nice maintained park,
hear at night the mysterious owl,
make the decision now or never,
expect already in my breast the stretching arms,
push my head against the wood,
firm my wrists on the hooks,
undergo the omnitension in my flesh,
am silent, wait and wait and wait.

Yes I like it. The everyday pleasures linked with the profound pleasure of the cross.
The sensation well captured in those last 5 lines. Pushing, stretching, silent endurance.
I long to "undergo the omnitension in my flesh"
 
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