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Payton Feb 24
Loving you is all I want.
Laying on your       chest
with a shaky softness.
The way your electricity collides         with my skin.
Your hands,     gently    exploring.

Your breath comes across my back.
Lovely are     your words,
finding their way to                 my
              lips.
Your body pressing against
mine.
Curving your shoulder,   slightly.

Your fingertips brushing            around my waist, like
waves       washing      over     me.
The feeling of your teeth      soft against       my neck
Tonight we're a sea,          your rocky rhythm       taking
       me down,
deeper.

Arching my back to        meet your moves.
My     bare      skin singing for       your warmth.
And you savor my     thighs.
Gentle are intentions.
You               trace your tongue       along my hips,
               planting flowers with your
lips.

Gripping      cold silk,
your     breath comes
hot against          my neck.
My mind pulses with
the thrilling thought of you
      rolling   over in
sheets of
             infinity.
Skipping        a beat,
your
         heart
gives in.

Leaving       fingerprints       on our      skin
                 like              beestings, and
I have never known a love
as sweet
as this.
This poem was written in 2016.
b Nov 2019
the stitches in my thigh are
healing so now we can all shake hands
and watch the money
poor in. the bombs are not coming,
please come out from
under your desks, you are safe
now and if im being honest
the desks wouldn’t protect you
from the shrieks of a
war plane. they sound
like nothing you’ve
ever heard
a frequency you unlocked
just for this
particular pain. you can almost see
the sound pour into your ear drums
like a bartender mixing
the ***** and the cranberry.
it sounds like 6am
it sounds like the same song
over and over.
Masuda Khan Juti Nov 2019
rolling drop of sweat
slowly slowly drops.
From the bottom of your breast
aiming straight it falls
On your thigh it tries to rest - but ah
--- it's a sticky plummet.
newpoetica Sep 2019
touch my thigh,
make me sigh,
as you ask why,
as i lie
and say "oh, nothing."
Emma Pals May 2019
Some days,
I do the slicing.
Others you do.

Regardless
It hurts,
Hurts like hell

On my thigh
Or
On my heart

The blood still runs
Red
Deep scarlet red.

But you
Don't know that,
Do you?
mjad Nov 2018
Put your head on my shoulder
Whisper in my ear
Baby
Words I want to hear
Tell me
Tell me that you love me too

Put your hand on my thigh now
Get my Snapchat
Baby
Send a pic like that
Show me
Show me you wanna **** too
Inspired by Paul Anka's "put your head on my shoulder" how young couples communicate "love." Then the first stanza vs. now the second stanza
Manny Aug 2018
And so If I
Hold you up against the wall
And press my lips against your neck
To try and feel your heartbeat resonating
Through your arteries
To see if your pulse is constant or a wreck
Would you move to push me off you
Or would you move closer towards my lips
Would it be wrong if we indulged in this
Even though for now you're his

And if I
Bit down on your lips
Pressed my tongue inside your cheek
Would it make you hate me
Would it make you weak
Could I take your breath away
Make it hard for you to speak
Give you all of my attention
Pretend that you're unique

If I
Slide my hand above your knee
And pull you closer by your thigh
Will you drop the innocent look
Stop acting like you're shy
Or will you continue to pretend
Say that I'm nothing but a friend
Act like this will be the last time
When you don't intend to let this end
I've had pieces of this poem written for years and never got around to finishing it until today.
b Aug 2018
i hope to one day
find love so strong
that i see the streets
as pavement. and not
the spaces around
my shoes.

id love to tell you
all about the mountains,
but the truth is
i dont care.
not yet anyway.
a mountain is just
something else
i cant enjoy on my own.

leave a knife
in your thigh and
try to write about
anything else.

until real love
hits me like a hook
to the nose
ill live in hopes quicksand.
sinking with a smile.
solfang Dec 2017
Thigh gaps,
Wide or narrow space,
Funny how,
The gap between your legs,
justifies whether you're
perfectly shaped or unfit

just by the distance
of your thighs.

I truly wonder how
the objectification
of women started
with a simple spread of
her beautifully shaped legs

from calling her a ****,
to calling her fat.
you seem to have
many names from
just staring at the
legs her mother gave.

if I really have to say,
who are you to
judge that anyway?
I wonder who gave people the rights to judge one another based on how they look, or how they act.
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