Her brown eyes in the dark.
The path of her spine marked with ink.
You trace it with your hand.
You feel her storied body.
Her skin hot, and yielding.
She radiates in the darkness.
Dark hair like spilled ink across the bed.

She gasps when you touch her
with a hand that aches with need;
your fingers wet with her want.
Your mouth fills with the taste of her.
You are starving,
and she is boundless.

In the morning,
there is a bottle of wine on the table.
The hand that poured it,
slender fingers on dark red glass
and thin stem, are gone.

The wine is gone.
The murmur of voices in the darkness
has dissipated into the pale morning sun,
soft and diffuse;
light that spreads and grasps
with halcyon fingers through the yellow curtains
and across the walls,
never reaching.

We **** on the cold ground,
breath sharp, bodies unbound.
Go fast—then slow it down,
hearts sync to a primal sound.

I take you there, then you bring it home,
back and forth, skin and bone.
Touch of heaven between your thighs,
one thought alone—I'm paralyzed.

Paradise, wrapped in heat,
your body sings, our souls repeat.
You feel so good, you make time freeze,
a touch, a sigh, you bring me to my knees.

You leave me shaking, leave me still,
like gravity left, lost in the thrill.
You make me feel so **** alive,
I’ll change your life, I'll make you mine.

As soon as you slide, we slide,
fire and silk, we collide.
Making love in candlelight,
shadows flicker, burning bright.

Love the way you feel, the way you vibe,
your body’s poetry—no need to write.
No space, no pause, no need to hide,
just you and me—we ride.

We **** on the cold ground,
fast then slow—no words, no sound.
I take you there, then you bring it home,
a rhythm deeper than flesh and bone.

A touch of heaven between your thighs,
just the thought takes me to paradise.
You feel so good, I lose control,
paralyzed, but craving more.

I make you feel it, change your life,
as soon as you slide, we slide.
Candlelight flickers, bodies collide,
love the way you move, love the ride.

time it is
she beckoned
time and I ate of it
the dread
the matter of her
no kiss of her
from her
honestly
no doubt, I knew...

it was dinner time

"eat me"
she labored
as dog in heat
spread her legs
as on stirrups
I be, the muzzle be her divorce from me
yank my collar, chain wrapped
about her hand
beckon me
"eat"
chain be her love I desire
collar be my patience given
but appetite?

mine be love
her beest pleasure
I have no appetite for
merely
pleasure
neither hers nor mine
sans love?

no appetite at all have I

eyes so weary of wanting
that I melt
as Salvador Dali prophesied
mine eyes droop
her thighs
wet my fantasies
as ice cream, on the hottest Sunday,
I am weak
weary of denying myself her
she, a mere rainforest of beauty
abundant in plural, though singular
her flower
droop me 'tween mine legs
raise me, as the dawn rises zenithly,
she pies me,
my piper, my charmed being
I'm pied
she has me
dancing, midriffly, with ****** fervor
mine eyes cast down
as shadow in sunset
lone tree in the wilderness
redfern shadow
a mile long
mine eyes cast down between her legs
seeing all my heart's desires

"eat"

and all my hopes dieth there

"eat"

despair, I mourn
I pine
"love me"
I opine, my lover love me
be not pleasure the measure of our stay, in bed, this Sunday
love me, as the Father hath given us this day
be not Eve of the forbidden love
be Dawn of the day we won eternal life from the devil's death
that my fruit be of your nectar drunk, that I be your pleasure,
and you be mine
that I succor thine fruit
hour by hour that you writhe
not as snake but as mountain shook
as mountain moved
faithfully, you love me,
let that fantasy be mine drink
and thine offering due my thirst
that love sate me,
nay?!

"eat!"

and all the world looketh empty of light

"eat! **** you"

and all the world be afright with wonder that I be man, yet, eat not my ******, that
she be heathen of love, still, my ****** she be,

simply,
that mine eyes drink her in
beauty beyond compare
but that mine ears deceive me not
for deceive me, her flesh does
but her forked tongue
as lightning streak
she shat the bed
that streak be her ****** blessing
dashed across her whorish ways
be that time
I linger in wait
wanting, but that I eat
she trappeth me
that all I be good for
is her pleasure
but be not fit
for her love

"eat! what are you good for?!"

nay, irony be that
time told
clock struck truth

"eat!"

nay

"what my flesh be, here, then?"

a trap,
and I say nay
for I be a lover
of such supple,
gorgeous,
womanly flesh, not, merely,
a ******...

"eat"

I be not hungry,
for a *****,
my flesh be purchased
but nay that my heart he purchased
neither my soul,
by merely, lust
I, too dearly, pine for you
dream of you
romance you deeper than form
and fit
time
and merciless pleasure
to be,
of you,
lustfully...
so, I say,

nay...

but,
that ye should, learn love me
perhaps,
that day

perhaps
then, yay

I wandered through silence,
bare feet tracing paths unseen,
adrift in a world without reason—
a ghost of what was,
a whisper of what could be.

Then you,
a steady hand upon my ribs,
fingers like verses,
writing me back into place.
Be my direction,
my gravity,
my correction.

For rightfully so, I see it—
not with sight,
but with the quiet knowing
of something meant,
of something found.

Fingers trace fire,
a whisper against trembling skin,
desires rising, unraveling,
spilling secrets in the hush of night.

A surge, a gasp—
breath caught between need and knowing,
pleasure flooding, aching,
a worship of motion, of surrender.

A gush, a pulse, a cry—
still, I wonder,
what magic is this,
that sets me free and binds me whole?

Yearning for your touch,
your taste,
your tease.

Part these sheets like holy waters,
let my fingers trace the sermon
written in the curve of your spine.

Desire ignites—
I crave you.

Yet here I sit,
alone,
penning this verse,
watching the space where you should be.

Why are our worlds
so near,
yet so distant?

Naked, I wait.
A believer, undone.

losing my mind cause giving you head’s
the only time you think I’ve got depth

in every whisper in every kiss
I wonder if I truly exist