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lust poetry sex women

Correcting Grammar

Photo by W R on Pexels.com


I write poems
On your skin
Sonnets against the
Soft skin of your
Thighs
Composing upwards
To what is mine
Tongue haiku
But I forget how many
Syllables
Until you reach and take my
Head in your hands
Correcting my grammar
And you ask
Permission to reply
And on sheets
Dripping sweet
Your voice
Grows louder
Than mine

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Ursine Meditation

My fur,

Warm and soft,

Carrying the scent of

Your skin,

Paws brushing the silken

Skin, capable of bruising dialectic,

Yet held in abeyance,

My lips, full and gentle,

Send prayers,

To the divine feminine,

Held close and have you

Feel my strength,

Apart but not absent,

Centered in the storms

Of the everyday,

Blessed by your lightning,

My roar, louder than

Your thunder,

Here, mouth open and

Drinking your rain,

Without retreating,

The silence afterwards,

Deafening and

Yet my ears remain,

Attuned even as they

Ring.

Divining the meaning,

Speaking plain,

Acting as the same,

From the cave,

Within myself,

Something authoritative,

Calming and without

Caveat.

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Weekend Omnibus – Poetry

Here is a collection of the poetry posted on the blog this week. Please comment and share.

https://mbblissett.com/2017/03/04/breathe/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/03/04/animal-at-rest/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/03/03/a-possibility-of-flight/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/03/02/to-dive-seen/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/03/01/on-the-beach/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/02/28/i-am-the-river/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/02/28/divine-collision/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/02/27/such-is-how-i-love/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/02/25/stealing-kisses/

https://mbblissett.com/2017/02/24/ache-2/

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erotic poetry love lust poetry sensuality women

Lips

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Watching me speak

As much as listening

Fighting the urge

To reach out and touch

Tracing a fingertip

Against the soft, red flesh

With a child like fascination

Your adult imagination

Already feels my breath

Against the places

Growing warm beneath 

Your clothes

My voice goes with you

Through you

Into you

A bow that has fired

Something deep into 

You. 

Not quite Cupid’s arrow

Because no cherub

Would do the things

That you imagine

Me

Doing.

 

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Belt

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Over my lap
Grinning with defiance
Here is where
You surrender
Or play at it awhile
I place the leather
In front of you
See it glisten
With intention
In a gruff voice
I tell you
That this is
For your benefit
More than mine
The crack of it
Tentative
At first
Physics
Chemistry
Endorphins
Blooming
Flow through your veins
Each blow
Lands like a kiss
You arch your back
Hungry for more
And the appetite
Transforms
Until you are soaked
Sated and ready
For
More
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Come At Me

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The Rush of My Blood

https://soundcloud.com/matt-blissett/the-rush-of-my-blood
Come here
Put yourself in my hands
Because your purity
Makes me ache
To leave marks
To see how beautiful
You’d look
Flushed and spoiled
 
I want to break you
Sweetly and thoroughly
Hands bound
Because something in your
Eyes begs me to try
That you dare me
To show you the gentle
Fury of my lust
 
Fingers knotted
Around your damp hair
I call you names
That would make you
Cringe in public
But here, shame is a
Shadow extinguished
By your light
 
And afterwards
I am an ocean
On a calm day
Reflections of the sun
You can almost
Hear the rush of
My blood
Soothing us both.
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A Storm That Frightens The Animal

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The unspoken heat 

Between us seethes

Peering between the bars

Of it’s cage

Yet so often, it’s lust

Is mistaken for anger

But here, we pass one another

The means to set it free.

Wrestling against one another

Mouths blooming where they meet

Hands finding something worthy

To touch, the fragile strength

That grows and swells

Like a stormcloud

Soak me with your rain

Deafen me with your thunder

Burn me with your lightning

This beast,

It has your eyes

And my voice

Come here

Set

It

Free

 

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creative writing desire emotion erotic poetry erotic writing erotica experience hunger love lust masculinity nature passion pleasure poetry seduction sensuality sex sexuality strength touch Uncategorized wildness women writing

Gospel

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All the things I think
About doing to
You
I swallow
At the thought
Of a finger trailed
Along the inside
Of your thigh
Eyes growing wide
In the fading light
The kind of touch
That transcends
The truth of our being
Meat and bone
That makes your
Body sing
To the gospel of
Fuck
Tell me what you
Want
Use me
To the point
That I am
Ragged with
Lust
You affect me
The way the
Moon
Calls the
Wolf

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beauty creative writing desire emotion erotic poetry erotic writing erotica experience hunger love lust masculinity nature passion pleasure seduction sensuality sex spoken word taste Uncategorized wildness women writing

Diving

My touch,

Slow as time’s passing

Curiosity informing the tools

Of moistened, agile tongue

Saliva slick fingertips

So even the friction

Feels like warm gold sliding

Down the inside of your thighs

Diving beneath the surface

The golden lakes of our flesh

Held in one another’s mouths

Small stabs of pleasure

Building until we lose all that we are

In a short squall of warm rain.

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