Experimental

I write this as a scientist
trying to uncover secrets.
Why is erotic writing a cliche ridden
mess of distaste?
Either that or laced with
silk and velvet
by the romanticist.

I wonder why a hand
can't simply start from the nape
and work its way down
to where the hip meets fabric
where the thumb and forefinger
unfoil the mechanisms of restraint.

From here on in everything slides
down whilst hands pull nudity closer
by the cheeks of her ass
spread by an open palm.

The teeth at her neck
get the desired response
as the sound of a belt buckle
being worked at
brings a smile to my face.

Nerve endings are such wonderful things.