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desnudo

es algo mágico

al estarlo contigo
me vuelvo fanatico
de tu cinturita cresente,
de tus labios color fresa,
del universo en tus ojos,
tus viñas de trenzas color tabaco como la que crece en Viñales
y como fluyen en el viento,
hasta de tu frente y como me dice
cómo te sientes en realidad.

muestrame,
demuéstrame todito cariño.

al beber tu néctar me acuerdo
de los palos de parcha de mi isla,
una fragancia agridulce que me deja adicto,
que me refresca y al mismo tiempo
deja con sed.

tu espina dorsal transmitiendo una fuerza estable
pero aun asi muy dulce
como el azúcar de caña en los terrenos del monte en San Germán.

que rico,
que calentito este amor,
como el olor de la panadería a las 7:05 de la mañana,
todas las mañanas,
que rica y consistente eres amor.

tu piel café,
que cambia como el clima al agarrar sol,
la playa y sus olas quitandote la toxina del tequila,
el color aquamarina abrazandote tan bien
que sonríes y me pongo medio celoso.

aveces me dejas sin razonamiento,
pero me apasionas con tu voz,
cantando pasiones personales,
ideología similar a mi,
substancia genuina,
como si la radio está tocando la nueva de Maná.

oye mi amor.
no me digas que no.

ando aqui,
en el agua,

deseándote.

esta atadura, esta conexión,
revelada aún más,
al ritmo de yo verte
desnudar.

-melancholicreator
fun fact, i'm Puerto Rican, been on my spanish poetry vibes lately, i'm no Pablo Neruda but it's pretty solid, enjoy.
Styles Nov 2023
As she stands there,
In nothing but her underwear, g-string
Breathing heavy

leaning her head against the cold tile.
Water is raining over her body, the soap suds slow rubs against her body

Fighting her own,
These urges,
relentlessly. The pressure building is tremendous
Thoughts of pleasure --  overwhelming

The warmth of his breath,
Make her ******* *****
Shivering so hard her hands trampled
down her spin, between her thighs,
His hands are on her hips
But his hands are inside her mind
Zywa Nov 2023
There's a strange hand with

pointing fingers on my thigh --


and it excites me.
Painting "The Loneliness of Skin" (1983, Marlene Dumas)

Collection "Eyes lips chest and belly"
Anais Vionet Sep 2023
When left alone at night
I look for the pinpoint lights
of the stars that appear
when clouds aren’t there.

There’s a waning gibbous moon
shyly peaking from the shadows,
with one of its symmetrical sides,
what’s the moon got to hide?

whispering privately
I’ve heard the moon has a darkside,
that it’s coin-like and openly two-faced.
That’s no idle gossip, it's scientifically based.

India just landed on the moons bottom
I wonder what, exactly, that got ‘em.
It’s funny because the moon is ****,
making the landing sound rather rude.

“India is groping the **** moon’s bottom.”
See what I mean? It all sounds rather pervish
and obscene - not at all the usual routine -
it has the ring of something politically incorrect,
but that’s progress, I guess, undressed or dressed.
Shea Aug 2023
I wanted to know what made you tick
The ins the outs
The corners of your personality
I wanted to know everything about you
And love it
And you left when you found out
What I looked like naked
LearnfromBOBD Jul 2023
Why is your poetry naked
You couldn’t wear some words on them
What I’m thinking is not in my head
What you heard from me are unknown to me well,
Take me as i am
I’m flawed
Bake me as i am
I’m thawed
The blue is sky
Everyone lied
The truth as been wandering
No one accepted it
Keeps me wondering
Why lying is so sweet
You called me a caveman
Because i grunt while walking
You couldn’t hear me well
Then you called me a walking poet
I was a lil’ bit weird
Cos no one to cover my naked weapons
Who’s gonna wear the bullet
Everyone left unaware
Mark Wanless Jul 2023
i saw a man waiting for a rat
to come out of its hole
so he could eat it

the snow was menacing but i
did not notice i passed by
no avalache ever came

standing naked on a small ledge
thinking waiting to drop hard
i masturbated and left
Yousra Amatullah Nov 2021
They didn't like me for covering up 

So the next day I turned to them, vulnerable
Stripped from my veiled self, humbled my eyes, shared the sweetness of my speech as if we have shared the same womb

In exchange, I obtained angry faces, eyes heavy on madness, deaf by the screaming of their own cries
In the raw I stood there, thunderstruck
Reckless tongues spitting words as if destruction lit itself on fire
Now I realize, perhaps it was not the soul but the body they desire
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