bitter, arctic breezes
bleak, sullen skies, numb and tasteless
leaves skitter and skirl in gyres of whimsy
they are so very far from the truth:
that in the heat of your gaze
the sensual agony of your touch
the fire in your mouth
the feel of your breasts
the endless depth of your pussy
the shrieks of your passion
you drive the cold
and the dark
and the winter
so very far away
shifting, melding forms
slippery with sweat
your body shaped by my touch,
curved, arching, spreading, lifting to accept me
i taste the mulled wine on your tongue
carpet rough on our skin
b-tribe pulsing softly on the stereo
rolling over and over, slowly, entangled more and more deeply
i plunge deep
you sip air
we move in rhythms old as time,
clutching at each other
glowing with delighted wonder
knowing it can never last
but knowing we can always find this place again
this delicious dance
this more perfect union
this ocean of joy in a wintry storm
-- PB
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4 comments:
Your way with words is divine. I'm not sure I knew that you wrote poetry too...
Temptress: I don't do it often, but every once in a while the inspiration strikes. I've done it a few times in this journal but the only one I can locate at the moment is the one tagged "poetry" in the tags on the right side.
Glad you enjoyed this! Hey, by the way, have you made "Archetype" invite-only? I can't read your entries anymore and this makes me a sad bear.
-- PB
This poem warms all the senses. So glad you've been inspired to write again. :-)
And I'm glad I've been missed! Spread the word, PB is back. :)
-- PB
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