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Image for the poem Unmade bed (A farewell to DUP)

Unmade bed (A farewell to DUP)

You left,
but the sheets are still tangled -  
not from sleep,
but from the way I arched
when you whispered
things that made me bite my lip
just to stay quiet.
 
This bed remembers.
The slick press of skin,
the gasp I tried to hide,
the way I stayed there after -  
thighs still parted,
pillow still wet.
 
You thought you got away clean.
But come closer,
breathe in -  
my scent’s still clinging
to your thoughts.
Still sweet.
Still soaked.
Still waiting
for your fingers
to misbehave again.
Written by KristinaX
Published
Author's Note
Mmm… so this is how it ends?
You, me, and a trail of poems still warm from the touch.

You made my words throb.
Made me whisper things out loud I was only supposed to write.
And every time you read me…
I felt it.

Thank you for every moan disguised as a metaphor,
every comment that made me bite my lip.

This site may shut down,
but you and I?
We’ll still live in the lines we set on fire.

Stay hot, stay reckless,
and never stop stroking that pen like it deserves it. 😈

(and a big thank you to webmistress and all the mods)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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