deepundergroundpoetry.com
What I'm not saying
Can they not hear it?
In the ginger way I walk
In my content weary smile
Tender and weightless between my legs
This shouting secret
Can they not read it?
In dark litany beneath my eyes
Recounting my sliding gratification
Her sodden encouragement
Our heated settlement
They all should know
It was broadcast in our pleasured chorus
It screams out in our aching centres
It was rampant fucking glory
Lip biting, blush inducing heaven
If they only knew...
Published 14th Feb 2016
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likes 4
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comments 10
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
14th Feb 2016 2:45am
25th Feb 2016 7:49am
That it certainly does Jazz! Sometimes secrets are the hardest things to not broadcast...
25th Feb 2016 8:19am
It certainly can - although sometimes you wish you could say what your body is feeling...
14th Feb 2016 9:48pm
25th Feb 2016 8:20am
...there was a lot of noise...
So many naughty tales behind those tired eyes and aching body parts.
So many naughty tales behind those tired eyes and aching body parts.
Anonymous
14th Feb 2016 10:44pm
I'm sure they see it.
Social graces keep lips still.
Wishing for the same.
Social graces keep lips still.
Wishing for the same.
25th Feb 2016 8:21am
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
15th Feb 2016 10:53pm
<< post removed >>
25th Feb 2016 8:23am
Have you ever wanted to kill that guessing by blurting out how good things were last night, and watch the reactions unfold! Social graces stay out lips of course!
