saying something foolish

She speaks to me,
my lamia,
in reasoned words
about topics many would consider
improper,
in many cases, monstrous.

Her eyes, luminous,
as she lies upon bed
in her insouciant way,
offering her base nature
in a modest way.
I spiral out of control, I tremble.

Her auric skin glistens
in the moonlight.
starlight.
Celestial bodies paying homage.
Who am I to be a doryphore
drawing attention to imagined blemishes.

And I stumble with steps and words.
My mouth mumbles
as if I suckled from her.
But she only offers a cicatrix for a nipple.
Saving her tender flesh for someone
else more deserving.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


Her little whatsit,
strummed with taunting fingers.
As if fingers had tongues
to lick across
a hard little nub.
Her slight rocking motion
incites smiles
and more taunting.
Until she tires of her taunter
and demands satisfaction.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------




eyes for the soul
nails for the skin
laughter for my ego
tears for my heart
pierce me

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


wondering if she knows
how sexy a slouch
can be
curves scattered upon a couch
drawn long
by sighs
of relaxation
cat-like stretches
take my breath away

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


content
with the content
of my thoughts
although
she graded me down
when I did not offer
full disclosure
I wanted something
to offer as a surprise
when the moment
was right

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


I think she
keeps one nail long
just for causing pain
whether it be
dragging it down my back
or piercing my heart
at least she kisses
where she draws blood
and smiles
as she impales me

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


Fast or slow,
her heartbeat offers
the pace of my love,
the rhythm of my soul.
Not a clock tick-tocking
time away.
A metronome
offering time,
consistent and timeless.
Timeless in the moment
when bodies intertwined
I lay listening to heartbeat.
Let our love
be the melody.
Let my smile
be the harmony.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

ponder darkness
ponder light
the depth of the breath
is directly proportional
to the exhale
elastic stretch
bind
snap
sanity is a ragged edge
walked frequently barefoot
over jagged thoughts
insanity is not always a chasm
waiting for a fall
but frequently a snowdrift
that over time
bogs one down
don't ask me of my thoughts
in darkness
that I would never tell you
in the light

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


Some things you never get right.
Some things you can't get wrong.

Something floral.
That's what I remember of her
essence.
That and a string of pearls.
I've heard every woman needs pearls,
to go with that special dress,
that might just be a figment
of her imagination.
A string of pearls,
like some rosary
meant to count the memories
in her life.
I watched her peer off
into the distance
and caress each pearl.
Amazing how that simple
subtle strand
accentuated the curve
of her throat.
Not much left for us to say.
Maybe she should have responded
differently to my invitation for dinner.
Regrets.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


she leaned back
surprised
my face feeling hot
flushed
an interesting kink
sometimes repeated
pale flesh illuminated
by moonlight
showing nicely
pearls of wisdom
inspired
by words of lust
and a touch of desire
 
She reminds me of desire.
Sultry voice,
sensuous walk
that speaks to me,

loudly,
as I growl softly
in my mind.
Coming from my mouth as a sigh.

And making me smile,
eyes and all,
as I lick my lips
salivate.

Wonder if she felt that
caress on her thigh,
even if it was just
the heated touch of my eyes.

I consider reaching for her,
the screen gets in the way.
Just as well,
I’m sure she would burn me dry.
 
Nonsense. This is the place to lose past inhibitions.

Hiya, Rachel! Welcome to Lit.




so is it comfort
with each other
or have we lost
lost our past inhibitions.
glory in the lick
caress your skin
delicate glide of the tongue
from ankle to desire.

somehow
some way I find you nude
in my bed
and wonder where
I left your clothes.
sometime you tear off the wrappings
trappings of cold weather.
Other times you wish to tease,

relish each encumbrance,
as you wander north
to south.
with restraint and kisses placed
in strategic locations,
bound in place
with shivers
and sighs.

enough talk of encumbrance
and restraint
and any inhibitions
hindering my desire.
unless said restraint
couples with our need
and focuses attention
on the tangible, on the moment.
 
:confused::confused::confused:

How does nudity promote a line of clothing?



I don’t know
where she found
that shade of diaphanous
but I adore it

on her.
Silk wrapped over velvet
skin so luxurious
to the touch.

She always smiles
sardonically
at me
when I say that.

Talking of dollars spent
on lotions and creams
and hours spent
on pampering.

But it was of silk
that I was speaking
as I mummer my desire
into the late evening

verging on late night.
As she struts for me
offered feline grace
no cat born could equal

and I sigh.
Momentarily blinded
by artistry done in pastels
silk draped across my eyes.

Which of course is my cue
to seek elsewhere for pleasure.
So I do
silk knotted as focused restraint.
 
so this is where you're hanging out, poeticisin'...

thread makes for interesting reading, Fool :rose:
 
so this is where you're hanging out, poeticisin'...

thread makes for interesting reading, Fool :rose:

Thanks. :kiss:

This is the folder into which I shove things. Get a few more pages of things written and it will be time to clean it out and start over.
 
I wonder if she would shiver.

Thinking of long ago
school days
with chalk boards.
Tainted gray by years
of chalk lines
and curves
made transient
by innocuous eraser.
The screech created
by nails drawn north
to south
by some wicked child
seeking to hear
someone whine
and wail in discontent.
So what happens
when I draw nails
north to south
along the curve
of her glistening back.
 
Extended time frame housecleaning post


Nothing sexier than her moan.
But it took some time
to get there
and enjoyed that journey.
Finding the focus
losing the pain
lips pursed upon her passion.
Delighting her with kisses
upon her lips
upon her sex
a sigh for her passion
just to see her squirm.


We've talked of hips
and sips
and lips.
Drinking from her lips.
What better way to find wisdom.
Nothing sexier than a smile.
Nothing more tragic
than lips turn down in sadness.
She delights me with her kiss.


Resolutions.
Question my resolve,
especially where she is concerned.
Or perhaps I question
whether there is a resolution,
between us
where she is concerned.
Is she concerned?
Perhaps not.
That is an issue I must solve
or re-solve.
Solutions in resolutions.
No.
Solutions in my whiskey glass.
No.
But I still drink.


Star light, star bright...
No. Wait. wrong one.
Twinkle, Twinkle...
No. Not that one either.

So what is that star,
that guiding light?
Not one that is in sight,
nor does it shine for all to see.

Perhaps a halo shining?
No angels aren't there for me.
Not the ones with angel wings
that wrap tightly around the innocent.

The star for me is in the eyes,
eyes that smile
brighter than the lips portray,
even with red lipstick in play.

Words are superfluous.
Sometimes I just need to shut up
and look around for mistletoe.
Kiss with eyes wide open.


so what a parody
of passion
pandering myself in deceit
last night as I was kissing
that girl I had just met
moaning our mouths
into some indecent shape of an 'O'
oh
don't worry
there was plenty of depravity to go around
but it was not her I was thinking of
and the name I whispered
against her lips
escapes me


~1~

air kiss
cast in your direction
fondled chastely
passed in a fashion
between never be lovers
or at least that is the message
monotone
none seeing the hidden caresses
down below
deep breath taken
shuddering sigh
inserting my desire for your pleasure
into mundane conversation




~2~

sometimes I forget
how unyielding your thoughts can be
frowning your disapproval
at my disrepair
lack of grace
sometimes I forget
forget how unyielding the door is
as I slam it shut
with our bodies
I never forget the softness
of your skin yielding to caresses
the softness of your lips
the taste of your tongue
dancing with mine


ice cubes crack
liquid fire chilled
cool to the lips
burn the throat
yield to warmth
as amber liquid
soothes me inside
temporary respite

cold nose, wind-chapped cheeks
turned rose-tinted
whether to chill
embarrassment
or both
doesn't matter
as soft lips touch mine
for that first kiss
on a winter evening
giggles and a tissue
for her nose
make her seem innocent

yet not so innocent
in the night
as we find ourselves stifled by clothes
heat thrown off
by a roaring fire
shiver once
at moonlit snowflakes
silent in the night
sinking slow
outside her midnight window
somehow finding ways to sweat
in the dead of winter

Figuratively a dream
balmy tropical paradise
passion's fruit
seemingly available at whim
sweet succor
afternoon's respite
all too soon the vacation ends
leaving sand in my eyes
no amount of tears
can wash out
sunburn
itching my skin

So I find myself
once again
fire cracking
offering no heat
requiring a tissue
ice cubes crack
break and water
down my emotions


There are no final goodbyes,
just breaks between kisses
to allow lips to heal.
Desire is not sated,
only put away
for another time,
until the next moon
brings madness.
He brushes her bangs
and kisses her eyes closed.
A soft caress of lips
offered with a sigh.


Is it madness
or desire?
Clarity in the shadowed night?
As he seeks a timeless measure
in the snapshot memory
of meandering thoughts
and caressing hands
wrapped in tresses
and strands of pearls.
That last kiss
replayed in slow motion.
Angst for him
as remembers it better
than when offered.
Learning never
to take her for granted.


Two bend and sway
as if dancing.
Words spoken
and not.
Don't look,
wife of Lot,
and tongues taste salt
as skin glistens
and burns
in dim light
moonlight
peering through curtains
in the night.
as two wrap each other
in hard chains
and soft caresses.


I was hearing that shocked silence.
Seeing surprise
in her eyes
as she worked through
what I had said.
It wasn't meant to be a secret kept,
(although it was for some time).
She starts to smile
her delight
just before I start to wonder
if perhaps my candor
had been displayed
in error.
Perhaps I should have told her
before now.
Something to consider.


so watching a woman
yield to her stretch
bending in ways
that both astonish
and inflame me
lips colored and tasting
of the sweetest wine
a hint of effervescence
burn through my thoughts
my throat as I taste her


if you were to wear a veil
would you cover your desire?
lace glove adorn hands,
velvet over steel
as you taunt me.
flaunt
your thoughts
of how it might be.
Happy ending or
ending in happiness.
strands of pearls
are a collar you wear
that binds me
to you.
each pearl grazing your lips
my lips
tasting of you.


if you moan,
if I groan,
linger licks a little longer
around each nipple
puckered
as if raising a hand saying,
"me! me! me!"
and I would chastise each
with grazing nibbles.
nibbles and nipples,
who would think of this.
leering as I count each pearl
and stroke lace
without nails.
No runs desired.


Grant me an indulgence
for I have in mind to sin.
Reaching out
to wrap my arms
around some vice
warm and dear to me.
Alter a finger stroke
into some light caress
as my lips ponder
a smile tainted leer.
Considering the infliction,
a mild abrasion
of fingernails applied,
dragging across bare skin.
Clothing my intention
in anything other than lace
is a waste.


mood beams and
moon rings
lascivious licks
tantalizing kisses
in some familiar haunt
an autumn eve
with leaves
and clothes
rustling in the breeze
luna high in the sky
casting silver shadows
wondering what vice
would arise
tangible taunt
groan our moans
 
some how I'll show you
you are my night sky
my daytime daydream
the memory cue for warmth
and laughter
...and love
not a moment goes by
that I don't think of you
smiling when you are close
and sighing when you're away
I'd tell you to wrap the blanket
around us
but who needs the blanket
 
EK, I am writing. Yours is yet to come.






sarcastic blemish
iridescent in the darkness
plain bra
panties on display
mutters her irritation
at a nondescript boyfriend
left lingering in the doorway
just another canker on her mood
rude though he is
in a rumpled manner
wearing for him
her lifeless lingerie
and love is thud
of a scuffed boot
tossed aside
to land upon her floor
 
Shoes in the corner.
Keys, wallet in the box.
Innocuous greeting
at the end of the day.
Ends the day.

Ends the day,
everyday.
Pick up the remote,
pick at dinner.
Pick the scab upon my soul.

Not to flaunt my pain,
nor to provide entertainment
on some reality show.
Just another habit,
another way to pass the time.
 
Need is something I am familiar with. Maudlin as well.
 
Last edited:
For you, darling

Hands just gliding along her sides,
counting her ribs
while tasting her lips
around laughter and smiles.

And then I’m cupping her breasts,
feeling the size and shape
within my hand.
But it’s the softness of her skin

that always surprises me,
fingers gliding over the softest silk.
Witness to delicate sighs
as she licks her lips

and smiles.
In one way I am in no hurry,
wanting to take my time
and worship her with kisses.

In another,
I desire to throw her down
upon my bed
and offer prayers of a different sort.

Virginal innocence smiles,
belies my memories
of her lurid taste.
Memories I wish to renew

In twilight, moonlight,
dimlight, daylight.
Rake my teeth once more across her softness,
Then yield once more to primitive passion.
 
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