I lay here aching
For this being inside
To explode something chronic
A release I must hide.
Throughout the ages
Regardless of spouse
I’ve maneuvered, fiercely wrested
As quiet as a mouse.
Sweating buckets, distorted
Positioning prime
To gross adventures forgiven
It’s questioning time.
Bit of a visual
Imaginative and true
Scent, touch, my mouth waters
Ignition, combust to caress is to fuel.
My goodness: a riot of colour,
A glorious beating, a phenomenal choir
Wave after wave - be careful - I’m drowning in
My own very personal, felicitous quagmire.
The after effects are sometimes the goal
A deliciousness that permeates
A quietly controlled fall
Into a slumber profound, as I dream of my mate
Once more to relive our last movie, our date.
Kerry Bridges
-
Author:
Kerry (
Offline) - Published: November 8th, 2024 09:45
- Comment from author about the poem: I imagine you can work it out!
- Category: Erotic
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments2
A yearning nostalgia to this poem it reads so smooth. It has an aching feel to it. Very nicely done.
So kind of you! Thank you
Oh my... I must have forgotten to knock...
Haha! Hilarious!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.