Feeling marked and wicked
Silk skin stretched tight across the starving pain of my wanting
Stretching. Breathing. Breaking. Needing.
Ease this tension I must. I must.
The wet rage of the Shenandoah between my thighs
A soft rumble in the distance heralds the coming storm
I can almost feel you in me
Aching for you to fill the slick hollow that I keep hidden
Need you closer, closer, closer
Please
Begging so pretty against the distance
Please

Painted toes, the color of ripe eggplants
Flutter and kick around as giggles bubble the rim of my hard edges
Days gone by in silence, broken now by mirth
Drunk on a spring afternoon's nectar
I catch the sparkle in your eye, knowing
What comes next will have me breathless, wanting
"Please" whispered softly as giggles fade to sighs
You love it when I beg
I need this, you, here in the sunshine
Gilded fingertips tracing my tarnish
Chasing away the darkness with the promise of warmth

Lick the words
from my lips
let them slide down
your throat
like fruited jewels,
   dark, hard candies
   that melt into cream
a healing liquid  
oozing into my
               ventricles,
pumping milky beats
out through
           your cells
permeating the deep
of my wild
  
My syllables will
   wrap themselves
      around your syntax
frothy hybrids
of buttered silk
                and irony
heart-to-heart
conversations that
flow into the ether,
as heaven's night
endlessly begins

We twirl our tongues
into guttural utterings,
lustful verse
that glides from
slick-fervored ice
to an outpour
                    of lava
We feed each other
dreams
our saliva like honey
dripping with dawn's
tender glow
as we open up
like baby birds,
begging to be nourished
at all costs

Here,
in this lingual forest
Your breath finds a home
on my tastebuds,
my tongue
in your
          cheek
            
In between the tumults
of our
exploding oceans
This
     is how we
  love

I smell like ***
Air heavy with the palpable heat of I-Cannot-Sleep arousal
Why do you have to be so delicious?
You gorgeous, bearded, mind fogging  *******
I rage at you from miles away
Crackling edges of my ire willing you to wake
The wet, slippery heat of my core begging for you to take a taste
To give relief
Strung so tight you could play me without tuning
Your deft fingers ringing such sweet melodies
In the soft silence that is all I have for a caress
My self-rung sighs speak volumes

(S)weet smile and bright eyes
(W)e said we'll wait but that was a lie
(A)nother night by my side and u crave it
(L)ets get naked i knw u wnt to taste it
(L)ife is short so is my patience
(O)nce i've said it it became my obssesion
(W)ill you be my wife?

(I) love you so much
(T)ime to admit what a mistake that was


Words Of Harfouchism.

~
Bala^ comments:
"alignment - any which way one can if possible to make
****** and ******* simultaneously happen,
without any best position plan"

~

may all the gods bless you, Bala,
for waking me at 4:33 with this poetic induction
coaxed from my spinal fluid sanity
with perfected clarity

my own circadian rhythm masters internal,
the most reliably unreliable human container technology teachers,
semi-skilled in the entrainment arts for this impoverished body mine,
deem it appropriate that early morn messages of
propitious possibility be greeted immediately

entrapped, awaken me at four AM with great glee,
because these elusives^^  know exactly what stirs
this being's cochlear cockles into birthing a
poetic cookie ******* *******

your message meme provoking, inducing,
be honest man - simply seducing, my within
by your teasing words from without

"without any best position plan"

not to confuse the mere appearance of a routine
as worthy of the entitlement of "plan,"
much as the poem's own vanity chooses it own alignment
the relationship, the relativity -
always the
flexing flummoxing freaking insatiable pleasuring

when your thrusting unplanned message
****** and bests my brain,
releasing a fully formed, instantaneous parrying poem
from an aroused, passing, unsanitized, second of sanity

for no better *** than this...
as per the unplan?

this tissued life,
this in and out
of punching and counterpunching continuous,
but rarely contiguous,
for we are never aligned for more than a moment,
the moment that almost always goes unnoticed,
for the heart's ***** tissues,
are mostly torn by how life
uses us roughly

so here is an aligned confession fecundity

this poetry gig, my salve,
to tenderize the daily redness,
the irritation residual of having no plan

however these fingerprints decided for you,
to present, upon completion,
this soft-spoken loud *******,
a peaking, not a leaking,
** ** ** - a screaming

hallelujah, i'm aligned!

the man found albeit briefly
a  beat, a plan and its verbal, herbal,
best solution

may all the gods bless you, Bala,
for waking me at 4:33 with this poetic induction
coaxed from my spinal fluid sanity
with perfected clarity

the man and his plan, for a mega-second
his best,
unplanned but got and given,
in poetic planetary alignment
positioned

as are you and I -
the thousands of miles of distance tween us
as you read this
collage collapse
into a singular synapse
of ****** and *******

hallelujah, we are aligned!*

~

disclaimer:
anything you say to me, can and will be used
for a poem
~
5:55am
April 1, 2017

The way you kiss me
Reveals to me the kind
of person you are
Don't just jab it in
Be soft and slow and sweet
Use a little less tongue at first
Tease me then bring on the heat
Let me set the pace
Then you follow my lead
Slow it down this is not a race
Taste me ~ Savor me
Marinade me in your mind
Think of me until we meet next time
We can keep it going trying
as many times as we can
if it's not right change it up
And just start again :)