سارة (leandergasped) wrote in merlin_trufax,
سارة
leandergasped
merlin_trufax

Ceiling Gaius bares his sensitive soul

Title: An Act in Verses, An Exercise in Form by C. Gaius.
Rating: Uhm, R?
Words: 546
Warnings/Spoilers: Do not read if you cannot handle great and deeply erotic poetry.
Summary: Ceiling Gaius recounts in the form of poetry, one of the many beautiful lovemaking sessions of Merlin and Arthur to which he is witness.
A/N: Written for challenge 9 - Voyeurism of the summerpornathon.


I.

I see you there, whip-cracking,
Whip-
-crack
Whip-crack
Against buttermilk flesh.
Roses bloom in the garden of Eden
like rosettes won for your love.
He cries out, not
Magic eight ball in his mouth
He can, not
Destiny
Destiny
Betwix’d his mouth that buds pink
As the roses which you burst to life upon the moonlight plaza
Of his peaches.

I see you there, back-backing,
Back-
-backing
Back-backing
Into leatherette cord.
Gold, molten lighting flash
Sheet lighting across your field of vision
Field, meadow, bed,
Where roses bloom and sheets,
Bed sheets,
Sheet lighting
Lighting cracks sky
Like a whip-crack.
Gold, red, bed sheets,
Regal
Royal
His bed.
Love like lightning.

II.

You know not that I observe your lovemaking.
My home is of shadows in corners,
My companions spiders and their prey.
Some might say I prey,
On you.
It may be true for I feast my eyes upon your flesh
Every sense of mine filled as yours are,
Tandem-lover am I. Third wheel.
Like a Robin Reliant.
I like to think
A sense of my being there pervades your coupling,
That essential third wheel
Keeping you on track.

III: A Refrain in Song, to the melody of Jump Around by House of Pain

Back it up, back it in
That’s right stick it in
Don’t shy from sack-love
Prince better use that black glove.

He came to get down, he came to get down
So get on your knees and reach ‘round,
Reach around
Get it up, get it up
And now pound.

Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!
Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!

IV.

My Kaftan billows with increasing ferocity
As I increase my velocity
As they increase theirs.
The fever making my hands sweat
Slick movements violent.
I wonder if they can see me,
Like a spectre that when you turn to look
Does not exist.
That flit in the corner of your eye
That you’ve seen so many times before
They have become like a friend.
An angel on your shoulder.

V.

Young Warlock wrist-bound,
The knots in the neckerchiefs reflected in his brows.
Whippet flesh whipped raw
Taut thighs dripping, opal cream and rust sherry
A vision Christ-like.
But the crown on the other,
Barabbas, Prince of a personal Heaven
Gold of the crown forged from that molten
Wept forth for love that swept elemental boy


Fallen Angel,
O, driving deep into the darkness of your passion
Soul supplicant
Flesh weak, sinew strong
The pain you inflict payment and penance united
In your union.
Purification blessed in the delta of salt that pearls
Every valley of your kingdom.

The rivers swell,
Banks broken
Le petit mort
The Heavens embrace thee both.

VI.

I am ceiling king
Gaius of shadows and light
Casting love rain down.

I can but watch you
From my perch of lusty brew
Doomed to never touch.

But pity me not
Your dusky flights of passion
Bring me my solace.

The hearth of coupling
Warms my old bones and boner
For eternity.

And now you lie soft
Tenderness follows the pain
A kiss for your hair.

And Ceiling Gaius
Looks on sated o’er you.
Kaftan cups issue.

Into the star spill
Disappear this wizened staff,
See you tomorrow.
Tags: crack crack crackity jones, porn is your friend, the verse's of ceiling gaius, writing what's that
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