- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Missed Communication
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Thank you to WickedEve for pointing out my typos.
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She lies in bed naked.
The afternoon sunbeams
through the window
burn her skin.
She doesn't move. She's waiting
Rusted door joints moan.
The scent of mild cologne
signals his return.
She wishes he'd fuck her,
but she won't say the word.
He'd blush, you know.
So when his cold hand lands
on her sunburned belly,
she purses her lips,
closes her eyes,
waits for the usual kiss,
his sweet slow caress.
With his cold hand on hot skin,
he wishes he could fuck her,
but he won't say the word.
She'd laugh, you know.
So when she purses her lip
and closes her eyes,
he gives her the usual kiss.
He'll love her sweet and slow
again.
- COMMENTS
WickedEveabout 17 years agoI actually like where you're going with this--two people who both want the same thing but can't bring themselves to ask for it. "She wishes he's fuck her,/but she won't say the word./He's blush, you know." Confusing strophe. Are those "he's" suppose to be he'd?
