Poetica 33

We rarely fight unless our bodies are in a lustful and sensual melee.
And once in a while the pillows you chose do come out to play.
You picked the wallpaper because you grab and look at it the most.
I picked the sound system hoping your screams of pleasure could be lost.
I chose your dress today for I had some naughty plans for later.
You tried to protest saying you’d be using an escalator.
It’s in this moment, with your face on our favourite wallpaper.
My pants and thoughts busy engineering a a hormonal skyscraper.
Your dress around your hips and my beam between your thighs.
The bass on the system drops as I flow in and you hit your highs.

Poetica 32

You use weekdays to rile my hormones up.
Thus the weekend finds me ready to explode.
You walk into the house like you’ve been home all week.
I remind you the feel of the walls as I deeply kiss you by the corridor.
You lead our way to the kitchen, ready to explore your hunger.
I switch the cooker on but you’re still the hottest view in my eyes.

Your dress rides up as you make a seat of the kitchen counter.
And I throw your legs open like cabinet doors.
You stifle a giggle as I find your ticklish stomach.
My tongue on a southbound journey to your
inner thighs.
Each lick draws out moans of deities and dynasties.
The dishes give way, when you can’t find anything else to fall on.

You find in my arms, transport to the king sized bed.
Lights could be off but I wouldn’t know for you light the room.
Deciding to not take all I have to dish laying down.
Your soft hands get hard to work on getting me naked.
Soon your soulful “aaahhh” is not the only message I receive.
I read your ready eyes directly as I slide into you…………….

Poetica 31

Tonight, tonight we celebrate special moments.
It would suit birthdays but it will be more like conception.
My lips find yours and too eager I bite and you whisper, “be gentle.”
I move slowly so I can trace your pulse down your neck.
You grab my head and arch your back to the wall.
Your thigh gets caught between mine as it plays a singular ballet.
Swift fingers trace your back followed by a pop.
Your pants drop as buttons suffer the same fate.

You soon insist to add to the one sided movements.
Your knees find the soft rug and I accept your perception
Your lips find All of me and too eager, you bite and I whisper, “be gentle.”
You move slowly so you can trace my veins, I’m awake.
You grab my head and I guess you’re having a ball.
Your nails grabbing my lower back like a wedding bouquet.
Swift fingers trace my back before I yell, “STOP!”
My panting is all off as I promise you’ll remember this date.

We are both soon horizontal and I become the pride of the poets.
We draw dreams on each other’s bodies, here comes the inception.
Your lips find my shaft and both too eager, we smash and whisper, “be gentle.”
You first move slowly so you can drown me in your lake.
You grab my head inside you and I almost make the call.
My hands grab you like I’m hungry at a buffet.
Swift fingers find your tiny tip and you manage one last hop.
We’re almost chanting as we explode together and I whisper, “checkmate.”

Poetica 30

She invited me as the sole curator to her gallery.
Bedsheets turned tablecloths, a meal about to be served.
Bra straps fell off like loose banners as her hands clung to the wall.
Her centerpieces arrived to the party as I ballooned in my boxers.

My party hat almost on, she insisted on a delay for the blowers.
Thirsty but no drinks, she directed me to the cake.
A lick of the icing but my target was the cherry at the top.
Her lips then lit my candle, her blowing only made the flame brighter.

Lost in the enchanting taste of her ice cream.
The pleasure unbearable, I screamed.
Her legs matched the bed frame shaking, our painting unsteady.
In our birthday suits, our brains exploded like confetti.

Poetica 29

She smiled at me, as calm as a swearing in.
I was as excited as an independence day flag.
My hands swept her waistband trying to find a place to fit in.
Her nails drew moans from my soul, she had me in the bag.

She could no longer ignore the value of the kisses on her waist.
So taxing was it to fight the carnal nibbling on her skin.
Crystal dishes lost value, she offered her treasury for a taste.
On the customized kitchen table, her demands almost mean.

I invested in my words and so did her screams grow.
The tap now running, she was not the only one soaking me.
I kissed thighland and left the shore.
Then I went down, like the economy.

Poetica 28

She moved her body to the bars of the latest hit song.
My eyes fixed on her as I walked to join her at the bar.

“My name is Johnny, the depth is implied.”

“Glad to meet you, the pleasure will be yours.”

Several hours later and talks of being a non-drinking, non-smoker.
My eyes looking up and down her smoking hot body and I, drunk in lust.

Finally home, I opened her and for a few seconds let her breathe.
She watched the cork fall out and got ready for the screw.

She flowed out of her garments and I got the view of her rosé.
She swallowed me and for every sip she took, I got tipsy.

Poetica 27

I love it every time you walk past in denim.
Ample apple bottom finds me on my knee.
You turn around and rip off my cotton shirt.
Smiling because you finally caught on to my plans for the hour.
You let your satin knots and lingerie slip to the floor.
I’m certain the spot you’re sat in is already soaked.

We fall on the bed and in silk bedsheets I finally sink into you.
We’re one with the fabric as your ecstatic scream materializes.