deepundergroundpoetry.com

Pulled Pork

smell of pork wafting
from the hot oven, prepared
we laze - hungover

after a night of drinking
and carnal lust and snogging.

kissing each other
in the process, the flicker
we both scramble for

your thunder thighs, in spandex
against my semi-hard phallus.

undecided if
it wants to rise or still bow
to hard whiskey dick

we hold each other comfy
and the pulled pork is ready!
-----------------------------------------

Renga style poem.
Combining food and sexuality, as many of my pieces do.

Written by astrosleuth
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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