Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2021
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
Wanderer
Written by
Wanderer  Between Midnight and 3am
(Between Midnight and 3am)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems