Pen in ink, A letter was written into the flesh, tattooed A lasting impression of these moments, to tell the truth, No one will ever make me feel the same as you do, I get so impatient when I get these cravings, I thank the Lord every day for he made you so amazing, From [...]
I just long to taste you, to part your lips with my tongue and sip the passionate wine of your femininity until I’m drunk on your love.
I want to be obsessed with you, an addict to the high of your yoni… ugh… drown me in the sweet waters of your oasis. If I die, may my heaven be right back here between your thighs.
Allow me to inscribe into your clit hidden messages of enamored
A tongue written letter detailed and precise down to the grammar.
I thirst for a drink,
Dipping the flesh of my pen into your ink
Be immersed in the thrill of my language skills
Until you know just how distinct every word is
By the end of the message release the flood of your gates,
So, I may partake of the sweet tune that is you…?
The Queen that knows how to ‘OWN” her throne, is one to be revered!
The attack of her smacksechoed,hypnotically–chasing his dreams.
As his power rose,he stood elongated–bowing hungrily before the Queen.Her eyes lowered,as his hands traveled within her heat, he erotically measured the ingredients —
becoming amazed by it’s-squeeze.
Parting royaltyas her passions prematurely ,began too seep,
onto the pedestal of his throne,as she made herself at home,anxiously taking a seat..
While ascending unto his unbending,intrigued– her nobility too moan.
Descending–she observed the pleasures of his ways to roam.an expression of widened eyes, as her clincher saddled up tooan already, surprising ride.
So the Queen,againascended slowly, pulling with much seduction,igniting and releasing a firethat could enrage, a combustible pipe’s–eruption.
Just as the pulsating beast gave way, inside her claustrophobic walls,as they caved-in–burying the hatchet, so too speak-whilewrapping tighter,spraying onto…
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When we fall in love, we are often so blinded that we rarely see the person for who he or she really are. Yet and still there is no decision more difficult to make than deciding whether or not the person you have been with, the person you know you once loved, is still the right person for you.
At least that’s how I felt long ago, with an Ex long past. This poem by Sarah Doughty connected with me on that very thought process.
“I can’t help but dream of the day,
the day we become one again.”
It’s winter again, and I’m reminded of how you used to hold me in the night. When the air was too cold, but your body heat was enough to keep me from shivering. I cling to your scent, not wanting it to disappear. But I’m still here, under the same sheets, and I’m beginning to feel the ghost of your touch fade from my memories. I’m still here, and yet I’m beginning to panic. The thought of forgetting your scent haunts me, because there isn’t anything left of us but memories….
© Sarah Doughty
“Being with you. In your arms.
Those are the moments I crave.”
Sometimes, when I least expect it, you pop up in my mind. Like someone changed the channel on the radio. Sometimes, my dreams drift to you, like you’re a magnet and our story is long from over. Sometimes, I revel in those dreams, allowing myself to be in those moments with you. Being free and open. Being with you. In your arms. Those are the moments I crave, even though you’re far from here. Sometimes, I wish those dreams were a reality.
But then again, sometimes, I know dreams are only meant to stay that way.
© Sarah Doughty
it breaks my heart all over again.
I had a dream about you last night, in a place where time and space could not touch us I remembered how your smile was so simple and bright, I've tasted those honey suckle lips deliberately fell deep into the chasm of those eyes My hands traced the detail of those hips so intimately I [...]