On Writing Erotica

Oh, to find sauce in the sweep of a tongue,

to linger in gasp

might we some way know a path

along his center,

the long and drawn out slide of exploration,

to feel her response,

the sweet touch a nectar of truth

when cradling moans become such wild

release,

not yet we will always say,

trying to find

an edge,

know when she, he,

when they as one

wish us, wish them

find our center together

in such is this our explosive mantra,

the sensuality of the human condition

discovered.

 

Oh it is alluring,

the mind wishes to travel

inside the fantasy

of sin,

a practiced sexuality,

the mystique of woman,

the brazen nature of man,

the combination of some swift surreal

engagement of this

our universal gender driven desire

to offer sweet solace,

sweaty and spent,

in each other’s arms,

legs intertwined,

minds as one.

 

We need the eyes for everything to be real.

Occasional Fantasy

Those moments

when gasps accelerate

the notion of passion that

coveted imagination

allows the mind to travel

inside the fantasy

of sweet alluring desire,

the idea of release,

a wanton wish

to travel inside her world

while she might indeed wrap

her own lips around

his select posture,

the two then lost inside

one another,

gathering storm

whereby the reality of a certain

soul-framing outcome

would match the ache

our hearts feel

when alone.


~ just finding my way, a personal journey ~