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Image for the poem Suck (curtal sonnet)

Suck (curtal sonnet)

I feel his hand approach, but lie at rest,    
Too sleepy to resist; let him reproach  
Me for my dark blue kimono; he'd stress  
His need for skin not silk; then he'll encroach  
Upon my drifting form: the garment hid    
My multitude of sins - the heated skin:  
Brown may trump blue silky; so let the lid  
Come off his jar of lust and, since, that tin    
Is never to be closed 'til, satisfied,    
He'll have his fill, and push my mouth open    
As wide, as his cock needs; once he has pried    
My wetted lips apart and presses in, then,    
Caressing my sex slowly - what the fuck!    
I woke; and he' ll say: "suck!"    
    
 
Written by SweetOblivion
Published | Edited 19th Aug 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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