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The knock was soft.  I knew it would come.  Why you even bothered is the question. You know I'm yours.  I open the door slowly, hoping it doesn't squeak. It does.  I decide not to care.  They know.  They all knew you'd come knocking.  You always do.  And, I always answer.  
We've seen each other all day.  I'd glance your way and catch you looking at me and vice versa.  The hello embrace lasting a moment longer than our other friends.  You still instinctively protect me, you take the outside as we stroll through the city,  you won't let me walk alone,  you take my hand on uneven ground.  I'm precious cargo to you.  You make sure I remain intact. Make sure my kids get me back whole.  I'd forgotten what it felt like to be cared about like that.   I look up to you now standing in the hall so very tall and bare foot.  I feel the corner of my mouth lift and watch as yours follow and then you step in and shut the door behind you.  No words.  But you say everything as you capture me. I'm on my toes nearly hovering as you pour years worth of hunger into our first kiss-since the world went completely mad.  I can't get enough.  **** I'm crying.  Why am I crying? You deepen the kiss pulling me even closer into you.  And, then you just hold me there against your long and lean flesh.   I sigh relief as you rest your chin on the top of my head and begin humming the song you wrote for me a decade before.  I feel my mask slip.  I feel myself- the real me-poke her head out. I can be weak. I can be vulnerable. I can be mad.  I can feel when I'm with you. You let me.  I'm more than a mother when I'm alone with you.   You smell like you.  A simple statement but there's no other smell to equate it to.  I could find you blind folded and hands tied in a crowd.   I even know the way you breathe.  Which steps belong to you as you take the stage in the dark.   I know you, Rock Star.  More than you want to allow.  I am now kissing any part of you I can reach.  Your chest,  the tattoos starting from shoulder down to wrists,  I lift your capable fingers and press my lips to two.  Your amber eyes are hot and you could not hold back your moan.  You know this mouth: you know what it does to you.  And,  so it begins.  The steps toward the plush bed.  The blinds are wide open with city lights, traffic, stars, and a Great Lake  in the near distance.  I push you gently and you oblige by falling back and watching me undress.  
"*******"  you whisper into the night. I know this is not wise.  I don't care.  I've nothing but myself to lose.  
You struggle to breathe  the moment my hand reaches your zipper.  You're swollen so thick I'm almost scared of how good this is going to hurt.  I start at your base and slowly lick up.  I keep my blue eyes on your face as it fills with passion I take the tip allowing my slobber to get you nice and sloppy.  I work it until you're gripping my long copper hair with one hand and the designer sheets with the other.  I open my throat and take the length and you curse and arch and moan.  My hand on your defined stomach I feel my ***** drip as your chiseled abs tighten.   Don't you dare ***...yet.  I crawl on all fours up to your mouth. My fat *** and sopping wet ***** pressed down on you and I capture your wide mouth. You eagerly return my violence nipping and groping my hips and *** so hard I knew I'd have prints.  Sitting up some you feast on my *******.  I *** once and then twice. I didn't bother to muffle the sound for our friends.  I knew they were grinning.  They know us.  They have seen our dance before.   I *** again...and then you shift the weight and toss me to the bed even as I'm quaking and trying hard to recover so I can see that perfect face fill with pleasure. No such luck as you show no mercy. You toss my legs over one strong shoulder and slide all of yourself into me at once.  I can barely breathe and I don't give a **** if I ever do again.   It's you.  It's always been you.  My baby. My hearts desire.  The ******* who worships me.  You take long strides into me and your thumb slides into the exact right place between wet folds.  I try to scream your name but I can't form it and so I just drown.  You're talking to me but I can barely hear you I'm so deep below the surface.   What? Oh I comply and get on all fours.   You praise Jesus at the sight of my *** and ***** presented at once and toy with me by sliding the tip against the lips before entering slow.  You're savoring this trying not to explode in me just yet.  I'm so hungry I begin to bounce my *** off you and you start speaking in tongues.  Harder faster deep.  I feel my hot *** drip down my thighs.  I can barely hold my self up and soon give up and I'm now on my belly stuffing a pillow in my mouth so that all of Chicago doesn't know how good you **** me.   No one else comes close.   I hate that it’s true.  Because, it means I’m never satisfied when we are worlds apart. You're so close, sweating to me, as deep and you could get you're moving my hair and kissing my shoulder and then teeth sink in as you fill me with hot ***.  More?  Oh god baby.  You moan in my ear and one hand finds mine gripping the sheets and it links our fingers as the other takes a hand full of hair.  You're still moving in me giving me every last hot drip.  When you finally fall to the side  you rest your hand on my *** and we both struggle for air.    The only thing I needed more than that was what came next.  When you can finally catch your breath you begin the worship.  The kissing. Every inch of me, each eyelid, the nose you think is so **** cute, the lips you sing about,  chin, shoulder,  you linger around each ****** making me beg for it before your tongue flicks over. You feast on one with your talented mouth and work the other with your thumb and forefinger.  You're an artist. You create and making love with me is yet another passion project. A challenge to you. How much can you wreck me?  How sloppy sticky and utterly ****** can you **** me? I feel my brains leak out my ears as you trial down.  How many times before we met had I watched you on screen and dreamed of your wide mouth on me?   You kiss my lips and then **** gently and I arch and moan your fingers are long you curve them and slide two inside.  I'm screaming until the pleasure is too much and no screams can form. I almost want to pull away from the sweet pain then  you lock my thighs in your strong arms and lift my *** off the bed to bury that pretty face.    I know this moment of almost too much pleasure will boil over and when it does I'll be a pool of flesh and *** and not much else.  The world could end and as long as your tongue is inside me I don't give a ****.  And it comes. The next wave to take me under.  I'm gone.  Will I ever return? 


Part Two:

The heat of the shower was a lovely shock. I step in moments before you.  There's two heads and the shower is ample but you want to be close so ignore that fact. You step in and skimmed your wide mouth over my wet shoulder before embracing me from behind.  We say nothing as the water rains down on us.  But, I could feel your yearning. The relief in finally connecting.   I love you, too.   This entire time.  And, always.   I also sorta hate you.  But, we will worry about that when you're not sliding your hands down slick and ample curves.
Megan H Jul 2021
I am unsure of where to go.

I was always told
That life would show me the way,
And Frost told me-
To take the road less traveled.
But the roads do not seem clear to me.
Where do I go?
What do I do?
How do I find my way?
Adulthood is rough
Aidan Jul 2021
Like most things there is a time to leave,
a time to leave the nest one was raised in.
But the question is if the flight out will be smooth.

Will you glide on ice or end up hitting rock bottom?
Either way this is learning of the survival.

Unlike previous species,
we are taken care of until a number deemed "adult."
Other than some exceptions that is when we take off
when the wings are spread out to engulf the air of what is new.

Sticks and stones break our bones,
but they will forever leave a scar of a lesson learned
good or bad.
It is these scars that show the growth longed for
problem is that the path for this growth seems to be an outline.
It has been a marked trail for most in their lives
so traveling off the beaten path holds a sense of uncertainty.
It is either embraced, ran from or lived on the cusp.

Learning is done by experiencing by doing or watching
but how can their be learning with only
one teacher
one voice
one person
speaking to you
giving the answers and guidance.
There needs to be an abundance of people involved.

One's skin thickness does not grow overnight
but over a period of independence
where you understand how to do something
who you are
who to let into life
who to cut out
and mix in some wishful thinking here and there.

We want to plant our roots
let them expand
let them tell their story
but that is just a wish masking the underlined work.
Knowing the time to leave is the start of this growth.
Unlike other species,
we have deemed a certain number to dictate when growth starts.
Along with the exceptions,
we grow
we get cut down.
It is all endured because of a base, a wish, a dream.
Just taking into account some of the stresses and thoughts I have had this past year.
mari Jul 2021
would you be surprised to know i still dream
of *** treasure troves and storms at sea?
when it's black out and the earth is humid,
waves rush in and strike me down like cupid.
i remember jupiter and selling stars on the boulevard.
whoever you are; my lover, my ****,
call me your good girl and kiss my tears away.

pegasus dancin' as savages ravage my rose garden
and tell me i got everything i wanted.
raspberries litter the ground of my home;
asphyxiating on the smog of a roach.
tell me you love me 'fore my heart can roam;
tail-lights like rubies dash past my eyes.
the sun dies in neon, but what about me?

so bathe me in red, white, and blue.
why can't i forget to dream of you?
killing me softly with your bare hands;
never felt as loved by any other man.
you're so much larger than life,
murderous rage disguised as love while i smiled wide.
i laugh while i cry so i don't feel so low,
but tiger stripe bruises will never fade.

well, everyone loved me until i went rogue.
now they're spray-painting outside my home.
blood drips down slow, molasses and sweet;
the village i roamed now cowers under my feet.
please, mr. rager, won't you spin me a story;
tell me again about your days of glory.
sing me something pretty as i drink 'til i ache.
drunk again for the third day in a row
mari Jul 2021
i wear my diamonds on the daily
doesn't matter where i go
i like to watch the flags a-wavin'
reminds me why he's still not home
and i cook up ultraviolence
dope and glitter on the stove
keepin' it hot for when he gets here
gotta make sure his safe is full

he's a bad boy, on a roll
likes to watch me smoke
while i work the pole
and he's all mine, cherry pie
like to ride shotgun
when it's do or die

he don't do nothing for free but
he's free as one can be
gives his pretty baby everything
that her iced out heart can dream
with his sawed-off in his lap
i know that this is where it ends
and if i die by his sailor hands
i'll make sure to kiss god's rings
tennessee doesn't suit u, 'tucky's more ur style
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2021
Free space, free myself,
to free my mind
I've got some free time,
and a place we could hide
So leave your skins behind.

Free love,
don't waste your time buying it at that corner store
Free entry into my love,
seeing me exposed. Enter if you're brave enough, I left the key by the door.

*** must be a fire,
burning in it's yearn
A desire unlike any other,
burning underneath your skin
   (Just not in vein)
Under the covers, and the night
Who knew this time comes and came
(Shall we do it again?)
Diesel Jul 2021
Winter fell like a short man's thing—
Too fast and well for us to see:
A gold-ring'd tool that mends the bell
And sets the fall of snowflakes free:

And autumn drained its leaf too quick,
Its tepid branch gives one no fun:
And almost brown the eyes could trick
When stars themselves spill out no sun.

And spring had sprayed such bad delight
In flowers eyes cannot see well,
And plants and trees sit back uptight
While sneezes mark the seasons well:

Now summer's here in aftertaste,
In sweat of bosoms and bricks nigh:
And oozings out of all man's face
That roams this earth thereon by.
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