writing a poem is hard when your soul contradicts the rest of you.
i say i love this woman and mean it,
and fear grips me, puts its finger on my lips,
and shushes me. tells me that neither of us
is ready, that i don’t know my own thoughts,
hopes, dreams, wants, needs, and their reflection
in the mirror of her stark blue eyes and soul.
that it’s all an imagining beyond my own soul
and comprehension, that i’m projecting
a long lost sense of helplessness and courage
onto her without consent because i seek
acceptances and intimacies beyond my worth.
and still, knuckle-deep in this hard, scathing noise is a truth i refuse to ignore.
i am hers in my entirety and only want to know
that she is mine— my soul contradicts
the rest of me but i faithfully **** it
and aim for the future i’ve hoped lives
in both of us.

She and I
       had the same vibrations
Stuck in our souls
       it only took one look
Deep into her eyes
      For me to feel it

She reclines, nestled amongst her stacked pillows,
                       legs spread wide,
                       hands cradle her delicate flower.
                       Fingers wander,
                       igniting sensations;
                       closed eyes,
                       biting lip in anticipation.
                      Her final release
                      standing ovation

my fears turn to tears;
      running down my face,
      like stairs,
      so many ups and downs,
      ego in my ears,
      nobody cares.

Every crevice your lips,
             Tells a story unfolding,
              woven into your tenderness,
              Of warmth that keeps me swollen.

Cuddle me in your arms,
Keep me warm
Cuddle me with your legs
Keep me hard
Cuddle me with your ***
Keep me going

I love the way your lips devour me, and your tongue explores me.