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deepundergroundpoetry.com
This Poem Is About
riding her voice like
a two in the morning
from behind
fuck
Watching the mirror
reflecting her
face
cream
with every
tug of ponytail
my hand is clutching
while I thrust like
a Chevy bearing
This poem isn't about
fantasized
heels decorating
yellow wood
floor boards
strewn amongst
panties, bra,
bobby socks
(and missing scatter cushions)
This poem is about her voice
angelic, soft
secure
accented in strength
and determination
How I drive at high speed
to hear it
How my skin feels
when it flies through
microwaves
to rest in
beckoning ears
How my heart pounds in
anticipation
How my words are lost
in the hearing
Hands rest firmly
on her thighs
in my mind
Even the pauses
between words
are
electric
erotica
That!
That's what this poem
is about
The erection in her giggle!
The fuck in her words!
The God in the ringtone!
-x-
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