- Erotic Poetry
- Sunday Night
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Lay with me, here.
Hug me, close.
No, not close enough,
closer. I want you
close up inside
and I need you
in me. Fuck! This is not what I want
I want intimacy and I’ve had sex
since taught at six by him
that I was wanted for nothing else.
Sex is intimate only to me
and you call it fucking.
So fuck me, now.
Fuck me fast,
fuck me until I forget how we got
to this place where I no longer know
your name.
Or how we met and you said you
loved my voice and could listen to me
whisper until six in the morning
while my roommate sleeps in the next room.
Fuck me until my need for punishment
dissipates while your cum soaks my cunt
from the inside out.
Fuck me until fifteen years of crying
on the frigid bathroom floor
vanishes, vanquished
by your black dick that mesmerized me
since the sixth day after I met you
on the three train at four in the morning
Sunday night.
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