beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Haute Couture.

Twitching with want

I can see it

How you hide it

Is endearing but

Let it breathe

The lie won’t last past the time

It takes to touch you

Caress the sodden silk

Pin you and steal pleasure

Like promethean fire

My strength in service

To your liberation

Wrapped around you

These words are a

Notice of intention

I hurtle across the space

Between us

Teeth bared and hands reaching

To whisper

Giving you the gift

Of my lust

It’s animal strength

Leashed until it slips

It’s collar

Charging hard enough

To make the earth shake

Offering a fullness

To make you spill over

Anew

Tattoos of bruises

Worn like haute couture.

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