- Erotic Poetry
- Playtime is (not) Over
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Promise I can be a
good girl-
curled hair,
curled toes.
Cured temper. Never whimper
without permission but I get
tempted &
tend to
tease batted eyelashes when my
inner Brat steps up to
bat.
She comes
swinging full-fledged with closed eyelids,
never looking out for where
she’s throwing her
tantrums
but I bet a firm hand could ease all
that tension. I intend
to guide
affections to the plate.
I know you like it when the pace
picks up
and our feet hit the pavement and
our wrists get all
tangled
in the thoughts.
I swear I’m not
trying to distract you from
your life &
your job
but you promised we could play again
when I was done crossing my
arms.
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