beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Breakfast

Let me whisper

My heated thoughts

Beneath a white cotton sky

I look at you, asleep

And the ache, oh fuck me,

The ache of it

I am about my purpose

I live with my wings

stretched out to the ends

Of the earth

My paws

Etched deep into the soil

But to look upon you

Makes me urgent with

Need.

I would make you breakfast

Then make you breakfast

Dawn is coming

Let me instruct you

In how a bear like me

Likes to start his

Day

And be sated by beauty

Sweet and thick as honey

Before the light reaches

My eyes

 

 

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One thought on “Breakfast

  1. Pingback: Weekend Omnibus | MB Blissett

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