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Agatha Prideaux Apr 2020
it was irresistible
coming
with you, unmistakable
saying "come in".

only touched myself
with the idea of freeing you
from your encompassing nightwear
—my red lipstick's affair

not even a feet away from your front door
grasped my wrists and dragged my needy body close
and touching, fumbling with my burning core
without hesitation—lips crashed and clasped in yours

greedy intent pulled me deep in
slick, silky, sweaty, **** kisses
erase the innocence of my tongue
make me pray mantras as mewls become sultry hisses

your name on my mouth, your mouth on my name
a pleasurable orchestral masterpiece in the night
dainty fingers down south, flicking flame
bodies intertwined, bathed in candlelight

push, pull, push... pull...
pushing and pulling and tossing and turning and moving in and out and in and out in a never-ending dance your fingers make
until you suddenly
stop

frantically tried finding your lustful eyes staring right back
only to find you looking down the feast—thighs blossomed open wide
i, the devotee offering to your altar
and my god, you devou—

lick and ****—play and prowl—drink and slurp
voice cracking, sweat trickling
gasping for air, taking your musk hard... breathe in...
breathing you in... so deep...

faster, and faster, grasping your hair for hold
melting and burning and igniting for each and every stroke
and i don't regret coming with you
coming for you..... coming in you.... until it comes... we come... come... co—

crashing down, shaking, crying hard from waves of euphoria—panting, breathless, lustfulness
with the stained bed only becoming more crumpled
when hot puffs of your breath trickled my rose-flushed ear
your voice telling—"this isn't yet the finale you've been waiting for."
Day 4 of #NaPoWriMo 2020. Tried writing an ****** poem for the first time. It was fun doing so.
Mitch Prax Mar 2020
I trace
golden stairways
over your skin that
lead me to heaven:
your body.
Mitch Prax Feb 2020
Dear diary;
I need something
stronger than an ******-
something that really rattles the bones
and shakes me to the core
of my soul.
Mitch Prax Feb 2020
I miss your tender
skin pressed up against my skin-
oh, I miss that spark

12:33 PM
2/2/20
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Jan 2020
A WOMAN IS A LONG DESIRE

A woman is a long desire.
Open her up like a wish, legs
as white as egg shells, thighs
as firm as terra firma, as
soft as a soft landing on the
moon. Her lips kiss you twice.
Her hair is a pillow. Lick her
as a mustang licks a salt lick,
her salty-sweet stream now a
flash flood, a rivulet gone wild,
her tiny mountain an earthquake,
paroxysms of purple and rose.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and human-rights advocate his entire adult life. He recently finished his novel, A CHILD FOR AMARANTH.
Mitch Prax Jan 2020
Her legs go everywhere I want to go.
Heaven.
Hell.
And everywhere in between.
Mitch Prax Dec 2019
Dear diary;
Why is it that my
misery craves company
the more my morale
continues to fade?
Too many times have I
known flesh that was
not my own
this year and it has
taken me too long to realize
that it isn't the cure.
Mitch Prax Dec 2019
She caught me
climbing up the stairs,
naked as an ape,
in the lonely hours
of the morning.
“You used to enjoy
these kinda sights.”
She slammed the door
and went back to bed.
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