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Luna Jay Mar 27
She came with a face and a name,
But no soul.
She replaced it with all of the
Hearts she stole.
Kept them in  the freezer-
So they wouldn’t mold.
She silently stalked
The world.
She came with
No man to hold-
But she let her own
Story unfold.
And truth be told?
I don’t think she
Liked men in that way,
She came with figure
Not pulled from a
She was the black sheep
Society would try
And scold.
They all thought
She was ******
And cold-
But my baby
Is a burning inferno.
Arke Jun 2018
do you feel fight or flight
norepinephrine through your veins
my nails against your skin
body delicate and responsive
lips bruised and stung
as i lick, nibble, bite
i sense veins pulsing with blood
burning hot with adrenaline
and i want you so desperately
i long to consume your words
devour your lips
take you in entirely
i want to smell you
fear, arousal, excitement
your flesh against my tongue
the sweetest moment of all
is not the thrill of the chase
it's the moment predator
captures prey
Dev Apr 2018
The unexpected tingle upon your lips
Taken aback by the fiery flames
Of passion and heat upon you

Drown in a torrid affair
Melting like lava
And relinquish control of your body to hells fiery, fiery depths.

Dance the tango of feverish despair
As you reach for a cool refuge
And sigh as relief floods down your body

And please, please

Remember to wash your hands after cooking with chilli

Or risk an encore of its fury.
Just finished making fajitas, and then not five minutes later, went to bite my nail and ooof.
Was not good at all.
Might not use bird eye chilli from now on.
Alex McQuate Mar 2018
Jimmy Page rips into his guitar as I rip into some nachos,
Covered with some real toxic-spicy **** I accidentally created in the kitchen,
And suddenly Black Dog becomes an anthem to my agony.

The habanero peppers dig hooks in as the serannos and the jalapenos begin going to work,
Hitting me with staccato body blows,
Pausing but for a moment before laying in again.

It's as if the very air itself is aflame,
The sriracha's heat sears my throat and lungs,
With the cayenne peppers charring my stomach.

My eyes water,
I want to wail like Plant at the moment,
As sweat begins to gather on my brow,
The sickly sweet stink of the apple cider vinegar used laces the air and stings the nose,
****** hair practically gets singed as it passes.

Page let's loose a riff with his instrument that imitates my heartbeat,
As the heat finally grows too high.

I reach for my only lifeline,
Something almost as terrible as the devil's ketchup itself.

I take the mason jar and take a swig,
And another fire snuffs out the one currently raging in my esophagus and brain.

My breath fast,
Blinking hard and quick,
As the song fades along with a bit of my happiness at creating something so wicked,
As I grab another chip...
Joe Apr 2017
I love spicy food.
Chips and dips
And chips in dips.
God bless hot sauce!
I would always go for the spicy option.
Yeah, I'm one of those weirdos;
The ones who love the slight sting it leaves
just like how it feel
to kiss those lips of yours
but I still slurp every word, nay,
every lie that comes out of it.

Your warmth comforts me even in the summers.
Even in the summer
when you told me
you didn't feel the same way anymore.
Maybe I should consider switching to mild sauce.
It may not be as exciting
but, at least, it won't burn off my lips.
My affinity for spicy food and, well, you.

Äŧül Jun 2015
Salty or spicy,
Hottie or cold,
Always new,
Never old.
A short 10 words poem.

Love is like wine,
The older, the better.

My HP Poem #881
©Atul Kaushal
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