‘I fucked her’ or ‘ I made love with her’. I think I m too ragged to decide. 

I would prefer ‘I had sex with her’. 

I was just lost in your too empty tenderness. 

A twigs credibility stands in its                     optimum ability of squatness. 

I was getting sucked out into your                     hollow chamber of cruelty. 

You were aroused like a pound of wave; trying to drown me in its inhospitable durability. 

You made me fly through your bank;          always stretching myself within                                                                you.

You closed your nudity                                              with unthinkable passion. 

I; on the other hand; was dying on a sweet attainment. 

You cried and you cried on top of your soul-searching crowning voice.

We both closed our eyes to see the soothing moon only to find it hiding behind the blazing sun.

Some self proclaiming craps came to our mouth and we murmered them between our eyes. 

You were flowing through the natural path of erotica, you were attaining the idea of sex. 

I was too busy to find my bearings after that beautiful catastrophe.

I guess I was still roaming around the level of hungry, low life sexuality.

I can never match your shapeless spiritual identification my love, 

Or the girl I just had sex with.