To never kiss

pink horses in pairs of two,
sigh and quiver while the mind plays the fool,
the fools fiddle with reason while the mares writhe in need,
one for the other and the other for another,
cage the doubts and feed the fire,
close in and breath through each other,
hold the wet embrace and wait for her taste,
revelling in this gourmet of desire,
Alas the fools fought themsleves in dark corners,
while the mares sang to the wind promises of tomorrow...