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Sturdily Thoughts
‘God why are you keeping me from ‘this’ lustful firm prize Oops blame this ink metaphor Sunday pampering thoughts’ Tagged: creative writing, erotic poetry, free verse, Love, poetry prose,...
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We so Must
magical this filthy mouth of mine under covers blueness fortune summing hands excellently kissing lighting years to come Tagged: Art, Color, desire, Dreams, Eroticism, free verse, Happiness,...
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Dent Kisser
moaned spaces red frees her tongue she whose fingers are young hunger penciling prophecies hips laughing bending lightly his hands trivially thundering his thug like stare unhurried as she likes it...
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crawl
lift my skirt lecture my hems restitching this truth your hands flaunting sunshine aware of this behavior of mine sightless touching paradise Tagged: desire, Eroticism, Love, passion, pen sketching,...
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City of Men
Unfold Winning sanity Delirious like a pair of large breast Her sex Your words are stones And her tongue is rain Eight corners inventing clouds In this festival of flames For the lovers with no names...
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You . .
taste like wheat, tongue’d through the conduits of a night, one in the other graffiting, vandalizing hearts barefoot, little by little collecting drops mumbling through a path of reddish sand a place,...
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Little exactly said
the exquisiteness of your face wittier than tartan twilled cloths the eagerness of your vocal chords high troubling the lustful state o’ how your mouth moves largely laughing in stones assuming such...
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Lovers too
know which way to go to what, from what i want to need, within this metaphor to greet myself, my right hand in my right between me, so my fingers move my thumbs doubling the odds for love intently...
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This man
too speaks affectionately tugging this skin carefully tracing my spine slowly circulating unmarried, go back to sleep a shape, from low, to high too beautiful too brief to forget Tagged: Love, Lust,...
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My right hand
In your right Excluding the metaphors I greet what resembles something warm A voice that drizzles you to gentle An anatomy, a passion once drawn With a pulse that grows, oh so querulously Dragging...
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Adulterio
Bended in a corner Exposing itself Repulsive if you ask me I was raped He hung himself Before I could remember Why I never cared for sex Unattached sex Cummings always wrote It is not what weeps, but...
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Nothing’s Certain
I become a little less skittish Disintegrating a surf to blossom Normality is negotiable Definition however, a rumor A pair of forgotten breasts Gradually inventing an equal An ingenuity much too...
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sex
takes a hundred years to rot I suppose it’s you I like your bleached skull; broken leathery almost, twittering o’fuck o’hush can’t do this I am no writer – I am a drenched thought your face is a lake,...
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Peripheral
I was refusing – sure for us once Etheral as hell, the side effects The blue butane, too good to sketch My better parts; split optically Yesterday a man climbed upon my bed Megaphones of war, little...
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Tricky trash
Once I thought a haïku Was made up of little lies Only wanting panty hoses Hands to tare them off Tagged: haiku, Love, Poetry, sensuality, Sex, sexuality, verse, writing
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Skirt
From such a height it hardly looked like England Don’t fret it’s cleverly lonely like water Your handwriting distorts any scars left The ones garlanded across my forehead The air of love is visible...
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Divertimento
Filth,mudflats,grassland An evangelist in disguise I am a coward ~ When it comes to writing Freewheeling the space Between my thighs Fuck, what is your name again The veining of your face sways...
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An excess of presence
Accessible in its proximity Palpable distance of joy Like birds re-entering An ancestral flyway Gradually unsealing In its vivid effect By the mere affection Of pure sensation In my hands, your...
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Truth
Customary for me To behave very dick like I flick with such roughness As my spleen ingests Nothing but winter air Mania – I suppose That’s all I am Pretending a cigarette could be called Anything...
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17
I make you Out of my fist A nudging That molds Holds Thrives Fucking you 17 times a day When I feel Like being a perv Tagged: erotic, identity, Lust, poem, Poetry, Sex, sexuality, writing
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