lip lock

 
do I kiss & tell
well...
the answer is yes...
...& no
what did you expect
after all...
I am a poet
& I will scribe line after line
detailing the experience
tell you how his fingers curled
around my arched throat
thumb caressing my racing pulse
all the more rapid for his touch
as he buried his rigid hunger
in my wanton greed
I'll outline how he pressed me
gasping & eager
upon sweat-dampened sheets
draw pictures of his laboring back
taut muscles rhythmically straining
as he filled my every aching need
my heels drumming demands against his ass
urging ever further depth
{I want to feel him
in places where no man has been
...or ever will be again}
I'll paint an image of every passionate kiss
describe each whimper & stolen breath
while he ruthlessly pinned my writhing plead
as we plunged recklessly
2 wild beings
toward the precipice of ecstasy
I will do all of this...
in memorium & anticipation
...of moments before
& those yet to come
...but I will not repeat his name
I've left it whispered in desperate urgency
tracing it with my tongue
...like a psalm
one lingering letter at a time
in the sheltered hollow below his jaw
where my teeth grazed his fevered flesh
mouth nuzzling the contours of his neck
it's there to this day
layered one over another
& there it will remain



in a mood...