Poetry Whore

Erotic Poetry

Each, turn of the page 
the prose grazes me. 
A friction to my skin 
as felt as a 5’o’clock shadow 
that give’s a rough kiss quality.  

Grating like gravel underfoot 
you ground me, 
like hard fucking, when lovers are present
not sex anymore - more raw 
animal and spirit 
not romance either, 
but a resonance, interstellar, 
divine as a cup of coffee on a Monday morning, 
or chatting over a masterpiece 
in a great hall. 
A walk amidst ancient stones from a time long before phones. 

Where only dreams 
invented possibilities 
and hands realised them.

Your voice now is like touch and blankets  
sounds that land like pink sky 
blinded, I die over 
as I inhale words, to be reborn. 

Verse birthed in centuries passed
but not surpassed 
sentiments still as powerful as ever 
especially when read by YOU. 

A breath of fresh air. 

Like curtains drawn wide on the world 
I slide into bliss from each line delivered
I quiver 
I  need to block out the light 
and linger in the night  
afloat together, 
fingers fumbling in feverish desire 
reaching for you in twilight.  

I’m here in the darkness too 
undressing you, I bare my bones 
to your languid tones 
so I might disappear in the poetry 
and run away with you.  
My love raw, rotten and exposed
but the soul knows truth, 
the serendipity.
Refuge in the savannah. 

And Yes, 
my heart is on my sleeve, 
I own, that I love easily, recklessly 
and with wild abandon. 
A gift and curse, ignited by verse 
set loose but also set free. 
To be lust and love,
Madonna and whore.
A fragmented soul of stolen words 
bathed in verse 
basking in the glow of growth 
perhaps what I value most 
about simple living is loving?! 

Can you see me,
my pulse beating hard and for you?
Blistered by beauty, eyes that bleed 
in the harsh light of day
with nowhere to hide but here 
as I glide into pleasure between my thighs, 
behind my eyes 
skin tingling, as it aches 
cunt crying, as it shakes 
drinking your length 
and strokes 
feeding on the mind 
as we grind out years of torment 
lovingly. 

Tears of joy falling 
your rhythm stripping my soul 
till it’s whole, all, undone and begun, 
simultaneously. 

I like
how we learned what we love 
about ourselves and others 
until here we are now 
in it together 
traversing the longing
through wild weather 
into union as if Dante, a tether. 
Poetry linking want and wonder 
and divine timing. 
Of stars and thunder 
intentional, sensual, even mystical 
a meeting of minds. Love binds.  

Now, see how I fall open and ask you to enter?  
Come into the canyon of my heart 
to swim with me in the abyss 
of bright days and dark nights 
as we drown solace 
and choose sweet company 
for choice is everything. 
Sensual 
and 
essential
like breathing 
air that feels easier to find
now you're close.