- Erotic Poetry
- Mountain of Muscle
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O, those tanned, curved muscles,
they leave me salivating with thirst.
They glean in the sweat of the sun,
and your hair, damp and thinning,
sticks upon your head so sweetly,
and you know your seducing me.
Still, you are statuesque, an icon,
a man to be served, if only by body.
You could instigate with one look,
and those muscles, brown, glittering,
they beam within the sun’s shine,
your body like that of casual shrine.
O, how I’d worship you crazily,
at your knees like a woman in rags.
I’d pray for the dose of your ecstasy,
emptied upon my face like a pump,
spilling out its contents upon me
and gracing me with the filth of you.
O, those tanned, curved muscles,
and that love you sprayed upon me.
I’d do it all over again like a slave,
anything to be of service to your body,
and if nothing more than that be done,
I shall be a blessed, blessed woman.
