Wednesday, June 16, 2010

What a wicked thing to say...

Light from the monitors, music from the speakers.

In me and on me, slick and smooth, warm heat against my back, lips against my neck, fingers linked together, soft hums escaping my throat, and the occasional whimper when he ges too deep. His muttered curses, breath on my ear, nose buried in my hair, inhaling deep.

Roll my hips up and around, a swaying move I have always reserved for the dance floor.

But he makes me feel like dancing, makes me feel like writing poetry.

I'm good with words, but I've better rhythm with my body.

Over my head, sinking fast into his music.


  1. awesome! I was waiting for an erotic posts. like those you wrote about SF Playboy, that feel like they're my vivid memories.

    was wondering if you ever wrote how things ended with Darkeyes and why it affected you the way it did. maybe I missed that post ...


  2. Beautiful!
    Personally I am out of poetry for now. I'm all the more glad that your physical poetry translates into to wordage on a computer screen....

  3. Seamless metaphor, Spontaneous yet, intricate, nice, Thanks for the post, Suzie Q