The Greatest Pleasure
After years of sleeping
in a box of metal and stone,
I’m free.
Free to indulge in pleasures.
but there is only one pleasure I want.
It’s the greatest pleasure of all.
Will I get a decent hot meal?
Even though it is an upgrade
from the gruel and meatless meatloaf?
No.
Will I sleep outside under the stars?
That for me is like a blind man at an art show.
I wouldn’t know the Pegasus from the Dippers.
The only thing I would appreciate is the extra space.
No.
What about making love to a beautiful woman?
To have my hands on a pair of firm breasts
and be between the smoothest thighs a woman can have.
To be squeezed by them as I dance between them.
Oh, that is indeed a great pleasure,
but not the one I speak of.
The illusions in prison quenched my thirst for lust.
This is not the pleasure I speak of.
The pleasure I speak of
is the only way I could get to a hot meal,
or sleep outside under the stars,
or find the love of a beautiful woman.
The greatest pleasure of all is this.
Now that I am released,
I will go to a motel and get a room.
Then, for the next couple of hours,
I will keep opening and closing my door.
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