deepundergroundpoetry.com
Everything and Nothing
She is a person who likes everything
In moderation, but never contained;
She’s passionate, but passion’s not constrained
By sparkling light and all the other bling
That seems to gather round her – she will bring
Her star-like qualities; these have remained
Quite imperturbable, while she has trained
Herself to be the heart to make him sing
At midnight;
And, again, when they find joy
By simply waking and turning to clutch
Each other, as they lie there and deploy
Their limbs until they’re tangled; and in such
A state that she will never be so coy
As people who have nothing left to touch.
In moderation, but never contained;
She’s passionate, but passion’s not constrained
By sparkling light and all the other bling
That seems to gather round her – she will bring
Her star-like qualities; these have remained
Quite imperturbable, while she has trained
Herself to be the heart to make him sing
At midnight;
And, again, when they find joy
By simply waking and turning to clutch
Each other, as they lie there and deploy
Their limbs until they’re tangled; and in such
A state that she will never be so coy
As people who have nothing left to touch.
Published 8th Jul 2015
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The author encourages honest critique.
8th Jul 2015 1:00pm
I find this poem enchanting but not particularly erotic. Maybe I am missing something. But just because I did not pick up on any heat or sex does not make the poem any less beautiful or fun to read.
8th Jul 2015 11:02pm
Thank you for the thoughtful comment - I suppose it is all a matter of perspectives.
For instance:
Dear Sir
Everything and nothing but always something and that something is everything even though at times it seems like nothing.
Such is my heart. Such are the passions for my master, where nothing but everything is for you.
Where narrowness widens, stretches under the push of you, then narrows only to grip obediently.
Where a fine sheen of desire glistens beneath you - for you - on unfolding petals, on cheeks soundly slapped until my all is yours.
Everything.
Nothing held back, everything constrained - not passion but in the bindings of my master tight around wrists, neck, the curve of limbs.
Where this girl thanks, she adores.
Your sl*t
But that may be another poem entirely - smiles.
For instance:
Dear Sir
Everything and nothing but always something and that something is everything even though at times it seems like nothing.
Such is my heart. Such are the passions for my master, where nothing but everything is for you.
Where narrowness widens, stretches under the push of you, then narrows only to grip obediently.
Where a fine sheen of desire glistens beneath you - for you - on unfolding petals, on cheeks soundly slapped until my all is yours.
Everything.
Nothing held back, everything constrained - not passion but in the bindings of my master tight around wrists, neck, the curve of limbs.
Where this girl thanks, she adores.
Your sl*t
But that may be another poem entirely - smiles.
