Whe
n I say “yes,” I mean mark me with your suck, fill me with your sweet fuck, grip me harder with each buck, drink me dry, take my breath, heal my heart, look me in the eye when I arch and reach and beg and cry your name so loud my ears ring.
carry the sky on your back…
I had to change my panties today when I arrived home; I’d been thinking about you. Trying not to think about you made it worse and the warm, secret-gush of my pussy juice had soaked
through. Even now, after changing into fresh lace, I can smell the lingering aroma that’s dried on my fingertips along with a knuckle.
And I think about your mouth, your whiskers pressed deeply against the silky folds of my cunt. Your nose pressed against my trimmed mound. I inhale deeply and as I walk to the sink, I think about you: when you latch on and suck
and suck
and suck…
until light.
vernal equinox…
The scent of hyacinths, like a pale mist, lies
between me and my book;
And the South Wind, washing through the room,
Makes the candles quiver.
My nerves sting at a spatter of rain on the shutter,
And I am uneasy with the thrusting of green shoots
Outside, in the night.Why are you not here to overpower me with your
tense and urgent love?
— Amy Lowell —
