- Erotic Poetry
- Perfect Love
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I heard her cry on a dark night,
and felt her moan, as she was filled
right to the hilt in the silence;
after I wondered if she was
the one to serve and share the seed
that I had spilt on her splayed thighs;
Such perfect love: it should excite
an eager play that's not tarnished
though I tore her from dreams and time;
And there she lay, her breathing harsh,
for I had used her over well;
my mouth was dry as dust, I knew
that she was thinking as the prize,
which had been carried as I spilled
and heard her cry on a dark night.
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