cdxxiv. seattle’s best

lingering over my morning coffee: last night’s wet dream.

cdxxii. geran

as anticipation fueled our days and lust kidnapped our nights with your many caresses, marking my body as yours, misgivings faded.

cdxix. yousweetsexythangyou

i pierce you, my dick like a bayonet in your somnolent orifice, weary like me, hoping you pour out more for us to float on. you, the gondolier guiding me as i surround your venetian boat vessel.

cdxiv. yesterday’s kiss

our bodies played hide and seek. your tongue probed my mouth, searching for yesterday’s kiss. you knew how to ask for sex in six different languages. i wished you were as proficient in love.

cdix. like poets do

i try to write about our bodies moving in sensual unison and how the smell of your hair makes me cry.

cccxcix. upheaval

you said you wanted me to hold you. i rushed inside you instead.

cccxcvi. pity

hands stroke under my sheets, drawing lost loves back to haunt. they piggyback old wants onto your cries.

ccclxxxii. innocence

it’s kind of like learning to slip my briefs off so you can touch me–those little tricks you learn over the years in some dark backseat of a car or maybe if you’re lucky, a sofa.

ccclxxv. sex tonight

stop thinking. just follow what you need. that’s how the insects do it.

ccclxxi. fig

if you weren’t the only tree around i probably wouldn’t be quite as attracted to you. but if you could suck my dick, then that would be excellent.