I'm not a poet, but I gave it a shot.
Mesopotamia
"I want to taste your history," he said,
his tongue at the entrance to me.
"You taste like salted honey,"
I thought of ancient lands,
of honey offered to
goddesses.
I felt myself begin
to flow toward him,
Offering myself to him,
wanting his tongue there,
just there,
the nugget of me
being suckled.
Honeysuckle.
I began to open then,
to feel my secrets
seep from me,
into his mouth,
his gentle mouth that felt
like the legs of the bee
upon my flesh.
I felt the buzz then within me,
a hum of a thousand bees beneath my mons,
louder, louder,
so I thought he
might hear it,
this thing that was moving like a swarm
through me.
I felt myself rise under his mouth, felt
myself push against his lips and tongue and chin,
myself the offering,
myself the goddess.
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3 comments:
Well, I'm not much of a poetry expert, but I really like it! This is (to me) what the finest erotica is all about... words are quite easy to use when we want to shock someone... and shocking is not always a bad thing, rather it is sometimes necessary. But really really good erotica...that takes imagery...and this poem has texture...I can feel it.
I tried to read it, I really did - it looked good and then something brushed my ear and I freaked out.
This is from the female perspective, as a male I can only observe and guess.
And shiver.
This is very good. HOWEVER...this poem would violate the "family values" of much of the Republican party, and probably Karl Rove himself, so I may have to turn you in to the RNC. :-)
One of these days I'll have to post some of my "poems" - and I use that term very loosely.
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