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Rated: GC · Poetry · Erotica · #2260032
A Poem Erotica
Love's Windowsill

Brilliant the Sun's dying disc is as
I look over my shoulder seeing you
beckon me back, for I know your
insatiable hunger requires no rest,
no slacking in our torrid tango that
returned me from a darkened, deep
place where I, profoundly lost, barely
lived within our world ...

You smile me back, you beam me back,
You pull upon my nakedness like one
does the reins of a racehorse, released
from a gateway track, the initial clear
sound of the pounding of beats afar
off, releases me to my purpose, where
Spring sprang forth while you spur me
to a celestial, sexual North as I guide
myself into digging the turf as we try
to produce a mutual, human ore ....
digging, pounding, digging so deep
to find amour ...to find amore ...

The sacred blood and bond that lies
there, I see you so beautiful in
the lessening Light - the curves of you
reverberate silently as they shake my
mind's senses with a lovely violence that
beholds me to your sight, for I am now
tongue-twisted in lovely pummeling
within a tunnel that grips and releases,
grips and slickly releases my fingers
that roll and reawakens you to greater,
sturdier heights undeniable - as they
smoothe and so soothingly soothe before
the arrival of your next, tremulous quake ...
as your hands reach ... reach down, clutching
my hair in patches, guiding me along your
hot, hot rift so brazen, your cleft that so
excites me further, farther - intensely as if
one feels so wholly martyred as I How you now,
flat upon your back, bent knees straddling my neck,
capturing me while captivating every sense
heightened yet still...my pattern of pleasing
upon the window of your world, the Eros of
your Being resting upon the windowsill.
My eye so instantly eyeing the colorful bird
that flies up...Up....UP, your plumage so scarlet,
like a woodland Tanager alighting upon
such greens, the ghost not yet given up
to die in the pose you strike - le petite mort,
upon Love's windowsill.

But the Sun has other plans, dividing my
attentions to every single place....that is you.
We begin that most ancient of rhythms,
the circle within that circle that is Infinite's realm ...
I chant a humming song along the heavenly trails
that wash like waves over your being, I call you
'Majesty' in tender moments to convince you
that you are the Queen Bee of my World.
I hum, I buzz with tumbling tongue
doing that ethereal dance you so
knowingly know, for I see this all over you!

I plunge down, then around in exact precision,
like a quasar rocking the sparked high heavens,
you signal to the Universe entire how far we've gone,
and to that end when you'll come back home to me
and not know the landing place of this fluid dream
always shall be in my arms as your staggered breaths
and your warmest smiles allowed the lava of love
flowing outwards to the very tips of your fingers and toes.
In the now-silent grace of the moment, let us relinquish
each other, let love extinguish the covers atop the bed,
the satin slides and slips past lips as we kisskisskiss
until the light peers over mountains and is extinguished
in the distant, resonant seas....

I kiss each dimple amid your smiles and feel your lips
in turn upon each cheek ...

As then I go down to that haven of wondrous, nested sleep.

At last, I go slink silently down to that open haven
of wondrous, nested sleep ...













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