- Erotic Poetry
- Hunger drives me
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hard to strip you
clean and bare.
Now, Fancy wants a razor
at your breasts, to net
smooth skin lying
next to hardened nipples
that slowly roll under
my firm, rough tongue.
Sweet Yearning yanks me down
below your belly, opens
your legs to offer:
plum colored sack of prunes
to the blade again.
Once rendered slick,
‘tis Longing which turns
you over, props you on
hands and knees,
proffers your porthole
for the final trimming.
But, surely it is Lust,
in the end,
the deadliest of the
Seven Sins, that licks
and licks and licks again
your salty silken
backslit, with Desire
nestled in,
that makes me return
to live this tale
over and over
and over again.
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