beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Invitations

I come to conquer

Not placate,

Quiet within my centre,

Certain, slow hands,

Guided by want,

Denied enough to find no

Injury within it,

My victories are over

Myself,

And each field of battle,

Becomes a playground,

With a smile,

Coming at you,

With force of intention,

Rough and tense,

As I act from a place of want,

Fight with what you have, 

Test my strength in service of

Filling you to overflowing,

Melting beneath my lips

Callused hands fed by 

Your skin,

Inside you deep and thorough,

I fuck without doubt,

Love without any instructions

Beyond giving them,

Biting and grasping

Until you are wet with defeat,

And we are both elevated

In the joining.

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