Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Take me back to the South? I rubbed a puppy but you made it live, I held your hand and ego as a ghost rode ***** I tasted your mouth Your deep addictive kisses were salty ripe with hidden tears, expectations and confessions of fears, You pressed me for affirmation with one foot out the door, My supposition acquiesced to passion Then, you disappeared Now you’re here Pressing me, Asking me what do I want? I need consistency, presence, commitment, and time. What do I feel? What I feel is Soul mate attraction, Unconfined by silence, Driven, diving, biding Ineffable, inexplicable, unconstrainable Uncontainable love and lust Intertwined and unbound How do you feel? Do you have clarity? For me, it’s taking its sweet time Dragging and compartmentalizing The inner unraveling of the unforgiven knot of the unacknowledged The unpolished And unabolished. What do I want? Excuse me as I try to unpack the dusty boxes, On my neglected shelves. I’m not a stranger to love or lust, But, I’m not a friend either. I’m not an enchantress, No siren here my friend. Nor, am I an open book, My closest companions are the choir of thoughts, Who sing songs of loyalty, doubts and declarations, I’ve wandered but I want a true partner to walk hand in hand the path of a life mundane, Stealing moments of hungry happiness, exquisite. You break down my defenses Despite all logic and suppression, Fingers press into mind’s flesh, Nails rake down your neck. My heart pounds and my mouth rounds, Warm wet worship, Down the base of your inspiring **** Your groaning and growing elicit my complete attention, And, focus my irreverent intentions To unraveling the bead formed on the cusp of your tip, Your palms trace the strands of my hair, Your pleasure drives sated completion Is it plans or preoccupations of hands? Are you practicing yet? For now, as you lament love lost I’ll sit quasi patient, Outwardly immobile and facetiously engaged Damp wanting but waiting, Quietly watching the two flames in my candle As they melt and burn the wax around its’ wicks, Hot but constrained Destructive but contained. I’ll be externally reverent for the life carefully molded, Grateful for familial serenity But, ever mindful of the calling, Forged by sound, touch and taste To an internal dereliction sung by our blue flame.
0
May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 1:26 PM UTC
Wanting
Take me back to the South? I rubbed a puppy but you made it live, I held your hand and ego as a ghost rode ***** I tasted your mouth Your deep addictive kisses were salty ripe with hidden tears, expectations and confessions of fears, You pressed me for affirmation with one foot out the door, My supposition acquiesced to passion Then, you disappeared Now you’re here Pressing me, Asking me what do I want? I need consistency, presence, commitment, and time. What do I feel? What I feel is Soul mate attraction, Unconfined by silence, Driven, diving, biding Ineffable, inexplicable, unconstrainable Uncontainable love and lust Intertwined and unbound How do you feel? Do you have clarity? For me, it’s taking its sweet time Dragging and compartmentalizing The inner unraveling of the unforgiven knot of the unacknowledged The unpolished And unabolished. What do I want? Excuse me as I try to unpack the dusty boxes, On my neglected shelves. I’m not a stranger to love or lust, But, I’m not a friend either. I’m not an enchantress, No siren here my friend. Nor, am I an open book, My closest companions are the choir of thoughts, Who sing songs of loyalty, doubts and declarations, I’ve wandered but I want a true partner to walk hand in hand the path of a life mundane, Stealing moments of hungry happiness, exquisite. You break down my defenses Despite all logic and suppression, Fingers press into mind’s flesh, Nails rake down your neck. My heart pounds and my mouth rounds, Warm wet worship, Down the base of your inspiring **** Your groaning and growing elicit my complete attention, And, focus my irreverent intentions To unraveling the bead formed on the cusp of your tip, Your palms trace the strands of my hair, Your pleasure drives sated completion Is it plans or preoccupations of hands? Are you practicing yet? For now, as you lament love lost I’ll sit quasi patient, Outwardly immobile and facetiously engaged Damp wanting but waiting, Quietly watching the two flames in my candle As they melt and burn the wax around its’ wicks, Hot but constrained Destructive but contained. I’ll be externally reverent for the life carefully molded, Grateful for familial serenity But, ever mindful of the calling, Forged by sound, touch and taste To an internal dereliction sung by our blue flame.
genevieveish
Written by
New Orleans, LA
May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 1:26 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem