- Erotic Poetry
- Galatea Answers
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When I can't breathe,
when I take you on my cool tongue,
(sheathed in stone)
the bower of your need
where you are made whole,
(where we are made one)
I am reminded that such reverence
deserves stillness.
I fold my hands around you,
(you are silk and marble)
so you might feel
(might be reminded)
that beneath my devout embrace
there is a torrent
of blood and pumping muscle
(exultant engine)
surging to a peak.
- COMMENTS
vrosej10almost 15 years agoI really like this poem. I got a necrophilia vibe from it (the origins of which I struggle to divine). I like it.
bflagsstalmost 15 years agobut then I end up comparing them like it's a competition. I like your poem better than James'.
