later

snowfall, drifting like feathers against the street lamp
the crunch of snow beneath our boots,
the brisk night air far from damp
the feel of your gloved hand reaching for mine
this walk on a snowy evening, you say, is simply divine

but it’s what awaits us that excites you the most
a roaring fire, reading love notes that you wrote
as i’ll admire the view of you in exquisite lace
the string of pearls i gave you gracing your secret place

gliding, tingling, awakening
sensations only i can command
with a simple look, a touch of my hand
no need to say more for you understand

that you are mine and mine alone
your heart, your soul, your every moan
but not yet, i say as i bring your hand to my lips
let’s enjoy this walk on this chilly evening,
there’ll be so much time later for kisses and whips to seal this partnership


Touch

  

her eyes remain shut
as he touches her hair
letting his fingers lower, her sighs
filling the air
down along the valley
between her breasts
his touch is a
traitorous caress
past her belly
and lower still
his touch awakens
emboldens, it thrills
till she’s calling out
his name
begging for more
his touch, it shakes her
to her very core

Mine – 30

he watches her when she’s not looking
thinking him asleep in their bed
nestled beneath the covers
he wonders
of the fears that live
inside her head
that she’s not beautiful enough
or smart enough
for him to love her forever
nor thin enough like the others
who came before
does she know, he wonders,
as he reaches for her
that she is his harbor,
his anchor,
his shore.


This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine

Mine – 29

should we meet? she asks him
do we dare?
will you be kind the first time?
will you be gentle?
for i’m not perfect
and it’s been awhile
since someone said i was beautiful
it’s been a damn long time
till a soul starts to wither
till it strays in search
of a touch that seeps deep within
for another soul to merge
so should we go ahead with it?
should we dare
throw everything to the wind?
will you be there?

   *This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine

Mine – 27

she can’t remember the last time
she felt beautiful
when he last touched her
in her secret place
when he appeased every fear
and nightmare
when she felt safest
in his embrace

she can only feel
the distance between them
as she counts the days
before his return
for in his arms
is where she belongs
even if they both
will have to burn

*This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine

Mine – 16

he yearns for her
like she were the spaces
between each breath,
knitting the air
with her smiles,
his heart in tune with her every sigh
and moan,
where there lie only desperation
and desire

Mine – 15

his kisses blaze a trail from her lips
to the base of her neck where her pulse throbs,
hard with longing for so much more,
his hands exploring, moving lower than it did
before

do you want me to stop? he asks just when she thinks
she can’t take any more.
do you want me to keep going
till you’ve reached the limits
of passion’s shores?

where your edges shall be smoothened,
and the raging of the waves calmed?
do you want me to keep on going,
my dove, and leave no stones
unturned?

 

Mine – 14

his hand traces
the scars on her skin
left there so long ago
a faint line here, followed
by another in a row
and there is no judgment
for the secrets
he knows

i see you, he tells her,
and though i’ll never know
the things that happened then
i hear them
i feel them –
each scar telling me
their story
from each beginning
to each end

Mine – 9

9

she doesn’t have to tell him
that she loves it
when he tells her
the things he wants her to do
when every command he utters
she follows
when his every command
sends her to the places
only he knows

*This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine