- Erotic Poetry
- ...into the night
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into the night
she seeps,
her passion a living
thing now,
unbridled,
barely contained between
monolinguistic
enunciation.
into the night,
the kitty weeps,
yowling despite
token attempts to
soothe her with
no kind touches,
a loving torment,
a sadistic attentiveness.
into the night,
a fever burns below
her line of demarcation,
slow line that slides
down the slopes of
her pretty thighs,
irrigation for a crop
of orgasm
even now taking root.
the depth of her
creativity,
her fingers dexterious and
nimble,
her mind a whirlpool of
borrowed imagry and
creative juices
sucked from her
own fingers,
into the night,
she coerces
phantom erections
to fuck herself with,
and into the night,
he awakens
glued to his sheets,
confused and
somehow
okay with it all...
(4 michele)
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