love, lust, poetry, women

Escape Through A Rippling Heat

Hunting

The hot, rippling

Heaven

That you taste

On my lips

I am a flock

Of birds

In your sky

Coaxing delight

That gathers in swollen

Clouds

Until they

Burst in deluges

Of honeyed release

Kiss my fingers

Hold them in your mouth

As proof of surrender

How I would

Tell you

What a good girl

You are

As i

Had you feel

My fury

Whispers

Of all the places

I’m going to fill

Make you

Little and girlish

With want

Sourced in safety’s

Comfort

A gentle primacy

That knows itself

And seeks

To recall

To know

You

20161227_080910

 

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s