drunk on your spit and pre-fluid–on what’s to come
confidence–like love is fleeting
I am caught in a pattern–ebb and flow
the sacrifices made for cock and hunting
eager between my legs–set logic to static
white noise fills the voids–fingers the holes
my wave ripple to catch your swell
sunbaked in August
love affair of late September
fog rolls and never leaves
clinched jaw–wired to taste
metal mouth and oral narratives
cinch the deal
the shape of supplication
contemplated–analyzed
our story is over
were the words I trickled–before I understood them
Story over…
memories begin!
Your capacity to share with your readers is impressive and so very generous. Thank you for the willingness to be vulnerable.
That was beautiful…the one thing I will not share online is my poetry, but thank you for continuing to inspire me!
inherservice:
Sexy Desperado: I am an open book baby.
BlackPearl: Thanks for the read love, have missed you. How is that ass coming along? Has hubby made it in yet?