It turns me on to see you turned on.
I love the way you look turned on,
peaceful yet chaotic,
all in one.
Your body tense as my hands wander along every curve,
your toes curled up in my sheets urging me to go forth,
your face smothered in my pillow to silent your screams,
your legs spread wide open,
wet,
welcoming me in.

If poems were ***
then,I wouldn't be a ******
i would caress the letters
fix a foreplay with title
i would literally **** the words
to give birth to soulful sentences
if poems were ***
I wouldn't be ******,still.

''You can still look **** without potraying *** in pictures''