#sapiosexuality
He seduced me at the witching hour
When the orange and violet skies
Faded to his favorite shade of black
Monochrome and Sephia portraits
Brought to color by a touch,
A carefully placed hand in a crowd
Reaching up and grasping the inner
Workings of my most womanly parts
A masterpiece sealed with a kiss
My bright red lipstick, the precursor
To all things good and evil beneath
The sheets, a thin veil separating
Heaven from Hell on Earth
Oh, I would follow him and ride him
Into a battle of wits and desire
Pleasure escaping from my mouth
A silent whimper beneath his fingers
That taste of my sweet little
Babygirl who submits long before
She surrenders, like a watercolor…
A blue blood’s wet dream, dripping
Down a perfectly blank canvas
That he vows to fill before making a mess
In my head like a naughty hallucination
I cannot forget, do not want to forget
No matter the cost, the time, or place
All I know is he is waiting
To ****** me, somewhere inside the Tate.
Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 8:20 PM UTC
(A light, playful exploration of intellectual flirtation)
You’re a glitch in my standard operating procedure,
a lateral thinking puzzle I’m not in a rush to solve.
While the city plays checkers, you’re out here
playing 4D chess with a grin that says checkmate
before I’ve even moved my pawn.
I like the way your curiosity wanders—
off-leash, sniffing at quantum entanglement
and why the sky in 2026 feels like a different shade of blue.
You’re a walking Etymology dictionary;
you trace the roots of my laughter back to a dead language
and make it feel brand new.
Let’s trade thought experiments like baseball cards.
Tell me your favorite paradox while we split an espresso.
I’m not looking for a soulmate—
I’m looking for a sparring partner
whose wit is as quick as a fiber-optic pulse.
Keep me on my toes, keep my synapses sparking;
your brain is the playground,
and I’m never going home.
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 12:31 AM UTC