Is it a bit too early in the day for this? Ah what the heck! *grins*
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Erotica
Filthy Desires
It wasn’t the scent of his cologne that had sent her pulse racing, it was him. Pure, unadulterated, essence of him. (more…)
Time flies
The twist of a hand, the arc of a spine
The comforting growls of content
Glistening foreheads moistened with fervor
Candles to enhance the scent
Damp skin under nails, a rise of the hips
Teeth biting down on a sheet
A focused anxiety, converted to zeal
And soon the night is complete
Strategically placed scarf
In daring days, on cooler nights
You tremble
Lips quivering, hands peruse
Soft angles of flesh
Delicate notes of vanilla pods
Dance under nostrils
Weaving intoxication into the air
And loins
Warm tingles spread – grinning
Like Cheshire cat with cream
And all at once the urge
To pounce
Upon unsuspecting mouth
Hot with anticipated breath
Oh, restrained font of desire
If only you could see, as I do
Our Merry Dance
Each evening you leave me,
Amongst broken whips and chains.
Yet every night, I follow you,
Like a dog.
Keeping notes of your pleasures,
your midnight secrets,
Your dreams.
And in the morning l lie,
Weary and worn, but wanting.
Then you leave me again.
This is our dance, you and I
Our waltz of passion,
My tango of shame.
You play out the steps well,
And I am a fool for your tune.
Under your hands
You unfold me
Take this naked heart
Peel back encrusted layers
And own me
Every inch of flesh is accounted for
Under your exacting scrutiny
Eyes that hide
Under wide mistrusting lids
Flower in your presence
Ungainly hips and dimpled thighs
Dance beneath your touch
Graceful fluidity
Finds me
Under the radar of your gaze
You strip me
Of emotional restraint
Slice through walls of anger
Pulling me through the fence
Of remorse, of pity, of doubt
And raise me up
A jewel
In your palms
You own me
These overlapping pieces
Carefully constructed
To fold around you
XIX- XXV
Some extra exposure for buried poems
The invisible wall of consciousness
Fantasy collides with reality
The first steps towards actuality
The future now appearing ominous
That sudden change of her self-confidence
Questioning the lack of morality
Doubting his real partiality
Her thoughts becoming hesitant, cautious
She starts to pour the remnants of her soul
Into the glass which earlier fuelled her
Her heart pleading pure addiction for him
Unable to muster her self-control
The mind claims lust a clear abuser
Body conforming to every whim
