Carmine Branco

Twas an illusion

Another day has come and gone,

another bit of life has moved on.

Deep shadows they fill my day

but when night falls I become 

their prey.

I close my self in a world long gone;

a world filled with emptiness,

a world with no wrong.

I feed my uselessness a dish of lust,

researching pleasures and sensual dreams.

I imagine a bacchanal of pure satin skin,

ready to please my hunger again.

Soft skin and ruby lips, sweet smell

of flesh that intoxicates.

I'm immersed in this ritual of sin

where I pull and I thrust,

releasing the animal within.

My hands caressing thighs,

my lips alternating between lips

and breasts and the melodic 

sound of moans that initiate bliss.

Then I awake, all covered in sweat,

alone in my bed, with a new day

of hell that awaits ahead. Twas an illusion. 


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