He's Arousing Me

He is arousing me playfully
teasing my neck with flavouring tongue
stirring passion shoulder to leg
stencilling lines with pencil fingertip
prints the word “fine” on yearning skin
now I am wondering,
what does he expect of me?

The Middle Room

The middle room
With dimming glittering light
of a pale blue hue
pastel pink, green bedsheet
covers the queen size mahogany bed
Powder turquoise curtain drapes a broom like trimming
sweeping, sweeping the hardwood floor

An elderly woman rebuking eyes
stares through a fragile picture frame
WATCHING
A young girl with company

A quiet song sings in silent tongue
Mattress churning turning
midnight light cat fight
purring purring to a hush

Pennies shillings rattling like a snake
falls to the ground
And the elderly woman rebuking eyes
makes the young one cry

Without You

Without you spilling words on the street
About God's sweet hand and redemption
I would not be here
Without the thoughts of poets reciting on stage
Or printing words on fine line paper
I would not be here
lost somewhere
Empty house breathing sad air
Broken windows, falling ceiling
Seeing dead people

Craving

Observing you from afar
My mind ventures,
Aesthetic thoughts.
Body ripens;
Season sweet pine.
Over time yellow,
Soft and ready.
Built in flavour savour,
Relishing my own essence.
Intense thinking
Thoughts a new
Of what I’d like to do
And wanting
But not now
Holding
Still fantasying
Taking it slow.
Refusing to move
Longer I wait,
more I savour.
Sautee meat,
Triggering bone
To sip the juice.
Holding the sap,
on my tongue
Wanting to spill
To squeeze in your mouth
My tongue

AND WANTING.

Wanting
Is my secret craving

A Rose

A woman’s soul is a delicate rose
That cries out for love

Close intimacy to keep breathing
Happy thoughts to keep believing

A scent of essence in the bed
Wake up in the morning new day ahead

A soul when it is touched, caress
When hands have contact the body for sex

The soul grows into a precious flower
Petals brightens the manicure garden

The watering hose pours more love
To the tall, tighten aromatic dove

of a flower. A baby rose fed and grow
thru love from the soul

Kissed By The Sun

People say the sun has kissed them
But how can the sun kiss someone
Would not their lips be burnt brick?
Stripping, cracking layers peeling
Sore mouths, lipstick bleeding

Could another lip touch such a lip?
Not a greasy one
Nor a warm one
But a freezing mouth wanting,
to be thawed with a fiery kiss.

My Lips

My lips are red
Flushed and swell
Larger hospitable
soft and comfortable
Aroused
Conscious
Gorgeous

Glossy,
Shiny
And moist
A plunge of the tongue
Exchange of saliva
Intercourse