- Erotic Poetry
- Where Your Wife Sleeps
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Twirl your wedding band slyly,
eyeing me in a glance. Let’s break
your vow together, a souvenir
of our naughty, nasty behavior,
a symbol of now, not forever.
Let the ceiling be witness
to our sessions in your marital bed,
where your secrets are kept,
where your wife has slept –
Where she continues to sleep.
This is far from love,
but let me keep you satisfied.
Let your cock explode in profusion:
Yours is a vast array of fireworks,
splayed and shattered and white.
The sheet beneath is in my
sweaty grips, and your desire
is leaking frantically like a faucet.
Hips moving, synchronized,
my claws digging into your back:
I tattoo my signature into your
skin, and what will she say?
Will your excuse be flimsy?
Does it matter what she says?
Does anything exist outside of this sex?
Inside these walls there is only
euphoria – reality is interrupted.
Your eyes penetrating mine.
Inside these walls, give me a call
when your wife is gone, gone, gone.
