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Carlo C Gomez Sep 2021
~
It began at sea

this music box

playing your calliope

fingers churning

like a paddlewheel

~
neth jones Mar 2021
PDA
fingers surveying
prints scuttle
             and
                  rill
; surface tips over dermis
shopping for a grip
a private tuck
or a filled skin to cup
warm and flushed bodies
digits cramming        
                   under bodied clothings
with senses entire    
               in this distraction
heed is ceded
of public location
and the approach of the authorities
with toys                  
uniform
                       and ammunition
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
*** 101
by Michael R. Burch

That day the late spring heat
steamed through the windows of a Crayola-yellow schoolbus
crawling its way up the backwards slopes
of Nowheresville, North Carolina ...

Where we sat exhausted
from the day’s skulldrudgery
and the unexpected waves of muggy,
summer-like humidity ...

Giggly first graders sat two abreast
behind senior high students
sprouting their first sparse beards,
their implausible bosoms, their stranger affections ...

The most unlikely coupling―

Lambert, 18, the only college prospect
on the varsity basketball team,
the proverbial talldarkhandsome
swashbuckling cocksman, grinning ...

Beside him, Wanda, 13,
bespectacled, in her primproper attire
and pigtails, staring up at him,
fawneyed, disbelieving ...

And as the bus filled with the improbable musk of her,
as she twitched impaled on his finger
like a dead frog jarred to life by electrodes,
I knew ...

that love is a forlorn enterprise,
that I would never understand it.

Keywords/Tags: first, love, ***, lust, passion, desire, school, bus, foreplay, *******, odor, musk
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
Upside down kisses
Set off the smoke alarm
Right side up
Let's see how many buttons
On your blouse can come undone
More than three?
Let's take it upstairs
And play counterparts
She laid on the bed and opened the cover to her book, and I began to read, consuming myself with each ****** that ensued.

The words from her pages began to get louder and wilder with every flick of my moist finger, my tongue felt heavy with an appetite - an insatiable hunger for a good book.

I read until she began to unravel at the spine and covers began to submit to its own weight, she could not let me read another drop, her final words on her last chapter were good.
A sensual poetry
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Your core,
this folding door,
guarded by the sentry
of your knees,
the iron vice
of your thighs,
allow me, please,
this much:
one kiss,
one stroke,
one persuasion,
that you might
this night, my darling,
find it in your heart to
open to me.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2020
She likes the lights in my room
They highlight everything I love about
Her.
The lights highlight where my lips
Have pressed & my teeth have marked.
She circumvents and understands
The lights when they come to hush.
The way that I touch her.
The way she lays back & enjoys
The thought of my hands
Revealing the parts of her that I cannot
See.
The ridges of her back my tongue
Walks & drowns in slowly.
Soft the way her body
Stretches & yawns (in ecstasy.)
She likes the lights in my room
But more so the way they cut off
When she walks in.
The light gives way the hint of attention.
Shadows fleet before my hand reaches
Hers
Becoming one with the way she yearns.
Her thigh gap at perfect ease
This craving a friend we both welcome
She wears this light for me
Until the switch undresses this yearning
She spreads & undresses for me
Everything I love about her
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
Invariably,
You prefer to come
To me in the dark.
"You're more my temperature then,"
You once said.
I'm not much of a thermometer,
But I am the eurythmy
To each syllable you give
In such settled shadow.
A play of murmurs and fingertips,
You once named this.
Always I see a wreath in your hair,
In colors of Persia,
Textures of night,
And the soft blended lines
Of you I know
Infallibly.
Vespertine - occurring in the evening.
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