[SPACE, TIME AND I LOST IN YOUR SONG]

[SPACE, TIME AND I LOST IN YOUR SONG] DEDICATED TO MONICA C KING WALLACE
THIS IS THE MUSIC FOR THIS DEDICATION... ON SOME WHOLE OTHER OTHER...
http://youtu.be/oFjPw9vwhd4

Every time I hear your voice I am transported to places and times where surely I must have lived before...
You all on the tip of my thinking as these words flow out of my blood and onto this page.
So succulent that I can soar the cosmos on a vision of you... My ship your form.
The music of you playing in outer space... Filling and fullfilling... Making me whole.
Out here where there is no up or down... 
You like a vision of the beginning of feminity... Eve on a whim.
Born of clay on a riverbank where men drink of your life giving fluidity...
Watching as you run through our fingers and back into the body of potentiality... 
You becoming a part of the whole...
Clouds in the sky... Mist in the morning... Dew evaporating away.
A boat suspended on the skin of your force...
So soft that I cannot hold you yet hard enough to wear away at the bricks of this wall of seperation where I found myself bound.
Lost in this sweet meditation where I play your voice as the background to our being in this diaspora.
Everytime I hear your voice I am transported away...
Sing to me oh oracle...
Give me a piece of your peace and I shall give you a piece of mine.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

VARIOUS PHASES OF NUBIAN EROCALITY

[SEXY SWEATY SOLILOQUY]

[SEXY SWEATY SOLILOQUY] 
THE MUSIC FOR THIS WET RIDE...
http://youtu.be/QrYZ7-ffsLU

When you sweat its like a aphrodisiac soaking into the pores of me making me want to soak your pores...
We slipping and sliding into on and around each other.
Me licking at the sweat that covers your erect nipples... the rise of your belly... lingering on stretch marks that seem to remind me of the Nile... all its tributaries.
Your salty taste reminds me of primordial times, we in saline filled seas, in amniotic stasis.
Penetrating into the primal and making we free as we fuck in this eventuality.
Only pleasure exists whether biting, slapping or tied up.
Kiss me, my head at the back of your throat, the back of your womb as you thrash and buck.
Our sweat running down to the tip of a nose and poising as a drop before it falls on sweaty skin.
We so lost in the quest for a nut... for that ultimate release, a little death that takes us away... brings us back.
Rejuvenated, reincarnated and refreshed.
Sweat on the mounds of your ass as I turn you around and look down at the hanging mound.
Prepare to enter and ride the roller coaster of your tunnel.
Feel you as your ass undulates in shining splendor.
I pull out as we erupt.
Merging with the sweat...
Evaporating from fulfillment...
Dont touch me I'm having a moment...
Mmmmmm.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY