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Click hereI eat blackberry pie
hours after he held my head
down in his lap
and deposited cum in my mouth
a porn star move for sure
He tasted different
which surprised me
I thought that all cum
would taste the same
The moves were the same
of that I can attest
there was nothing new
the new man showed me
Now I eat blackberry pie
that flushes his taste
as disenchantment
feasts on my mind
Great way to express the way one can feel after round after round of sexual contexts. They all start to seem the same after a while. You reminded me of things I had quite forgotten. Bravo.
. . . are consistently among the best poems I read here, when I read. A comment from me is long overdue, which is why most of this comment will be general. I don't think I've commented on your writing before, don't know why, and shame on me. There is so much "erotic" poetry to be found in the New Poems that is not erotic at all, and it's a pleasure to read the majority of your poems. As to this poem, the last strophe struck me as weak, and I'm not sure you need it at all. It could be loped off, to the poem's benefit, I think. -- TheRainMan
is, I guess, how they are erotic without being erotic. How, in them, sex is less than ecstatic, as in most poems here it usually is, how yours so often are melancholic or depressed after a sexual encounter. That seems so much more real to me than most of what posts here. I appreciate that. Well done. Very well done.
nothing much new under the sun. Have you read Milan Kundera? I really enjoyed this poem, the abrupt use of cum usually bugs me, but in this case, it was more clinical, an observation, distant.