The evolutionary imperative to procreate never rests. Even when it doesn’t cross the conscious mind, it sneaks through, disguised by night.
I don’t understand it. This yearning desire, designed to warm the flesh, is at odds with a higher directive established through practice and purpose. Yet the mind does not rest. Dreams within dreams allow physical urges to seep through the cracks of the serrated consciousness. To wake my being with the hot-blooded desire to copulate like nothing more than the beast inside.
Where do you come from, Ms Tantalizing Temptation? Your sultry seductions are neither welcome nor wanted. Yet they drip into the stream of consciousness, night after night. Day after day.
