- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Man I Love
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It was in bed
under flowered sheets
that I bloomed when he touched me
after having to ask.
I smile now
remembering that;
the shy man I coerced on my mattress
that I have now grown so close to.
He has a name I never use,
preferring nicknames instead;
the names only I have called him
that he responds to with a grin.
This is my man;
the one who is there when I cry out,
and who stands by my side
making me feel not so small.
This is the one who fits in my hand
and let’s me twist him round my finger,
knowing, and more than willing,
this is the man I love.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozabout 17 years agoLike a sweet dedication to the man so enamored that he relishes being finger wrapped.
BOSTONFICTIONWRITERabout 17 years agoYour poem makes me wish I were your man.
Thanks for the poem
