Author: ReaverTam PM
An attempt at erotic poetry. Not graphic. Not strictly happy, but honest.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - Words: 200 - Published: 09-24-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3060831
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A touch – hesitant, not gentle
a room colored in swirls of indigo
the darkness deepens around a man's silhouette.
Featureless as shadow, your inky figure looms.
You do not speak, unwilling to shatter tenuous silence
(your breath, your heartbeat – these pulse with
mine, I drink them in but cannot hear them)
A sharp contrast to the muted colors, the heavy air is
saturated with the heat of your exhale, the
hint of sweet leather clinging to your skin,
intoxicating spice of your scent.
You are not patient.
I yield under you.
I am not precious, not fragile, I am
alive, caught up in you. I am
not a prize, I am not won, I am
defeated (but how sweet your victory), I am
whole, again and again and again –
you draw me to you, a perfect fit, my small frame
hidden, protected, desecrated beneath you
Senses shift. I do not see, I do not hear.
you strike, again and again and again
vibrations course through me,
you do not play me like a guitar
you have made me your organ,
music not coaxed, but demanded. Chords
pour from me
louder and louder
We shatter on the same note.