Coming Ashore

I stir as I hear
the soft snap
of the door shut.

You sail across the floor
through the hazy dawn light,
your stiff cock like a ship’s prow,
sticking straight out before you.

The bed sinks with
your weight upon it and
sways from side to side,
like a raft afloat,
as you dock a knee
on either side of my head.

Like an anchor
you drop swollen balls
and hard ass across my face,
their dense weight
the ballast for your voyage.

My tongue jigs
like an eel into
your hot cavern, craving
the briny taste
at the bottom
of the well.

I carve your route
like a rudder,
first slicing, then splicing
wave upon wave
of your desire
as you surely
come ashore.


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