Kink.

Americana Injustica

Eyes, locked that never leave my thighs, as I pass by –

parade-rested – ideas nested deeply in your mind;

let stand: up your man, hands down, at your sides;

don’t feel shy – or try to hide –

let those savage instincts over-ride;

Hold, molten to your soul in solid gold, the coveted prize –

cradled tightly – carried brightly by the iris of your eye;

follow me: into Ecstasy, and let your body be satisfied;

don’t act blind – let me ease your mind –

just undress and find your way inside;

Sweat, drips salty-wet, drop erotic tears, in my eyes –

legs shaking – an undertaking of the most pleasant type;

climax; then relax, let your wind fill the skies;

you can unwind – this suits us both fine –

forget the details you’ve been scratching to find;

Time, passes along before I am gone into the…

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Long Night.

Early on,

the night is long,

you trail me,

by a sturdy lead,

unsurprised,

are your eyes,

to perceive,

how readily,

I follow along,

mesmerized,

paralyzed

by your song,

vocalized,

localized,

loud and long,

played steadily,

laid heavily,

heaves and sighs,

the fall and rise,

in ecstasy,

in submission,

across a knee,

white flag waving,

daylight fading,

into the pull,

magnetically,

shamelessly,

make-up smearing,

clothes disappearing,

instantly,

full nudity,

immortalized,

by your tender mind,

and your touch,

leaves me,

crossing my eyes,

seeing flashes of light,

burning,

yearning,

rivers rush deep,

the mouth to the sea,

internalized,

naturally.

 

 

 

Sing-Song.

Confined by a desirous thing,

the inside of a tiny boxing ring,

minus the hollering referee,

in my corner to guide me to victory;

your voice leaves me wanting to sing,

your face just leaves me wanting,

to taste your kisses subserviently,

to undress you each night of week,

to take all of you into me,

and keep the secret of your poetry,

forever pulsing in my veins,

like a tissue to dab my tears away,

please just continue to read to me,

forever and without ever leaving.

Pink Slip.

No comforts resurrected
in the absence of his grip
Fleeting aches
body shakes
I am thoroughly affected
by demands made from his lips
In withdrawal
until nightfall
When I’m finally subjected
to the will of his fingertips
Subservience
Willingness
For the form to be perfected
beneath his gentle dominance
Heavenly Hell
I show and he tells
Only his desires reflected
as coils tighten and knots slip
He’s burning
I’m learning
He has taken over ownership.

Dumbly Mused.

My mind reeled sinfully as my gaze found its lazy way upon,

your eyes drilled into me through the haze of shady recognition,

how the shadowy cobwebs of distant times,

have smeared many edges and blurred out the lines,

but the instant I saw you,

and knew you saw me too,

the moment I bowed my head in gratitude,

it seemed a flash of lightning,

something jarring and striking,

took my knees from under me,

so I dumbly mused hungrily,

on distant things resurfacing in plenitude,

an emotionally messy,

however, very sexy catastrophe,

was the spark of fire ignited by memory,

was the bolt of energy flashing between,

in its own way defining the physical being,

in that instant recollection,

of that distant connection,

when our bodies intertwined nakedly,

and our times were confined to history,

while our eyes were still quite blind,

and we couldn’t hear a thing,

the sense of touch,

was left to us,

the warm rush of skin in flannel sheets,

and in that moment,

so long later down the line,

our eyes got to touch one last time,

I touched yours,

yours touched mine,

and you remembered me.

 

Pushing Buttons.

What…?
You honestly thought,
that my DNA forgot,
the dealer of
such a lethal drug?
When you’ve
got me tethered,
weathered and wrought;
and you’ve
got me pleasured,
treasure the thought;
What…?
say you didn’t mean,
to imply anything,
through the carelessness,
of your pretentiousness,
When you’ve
got me all twisted,
insistent on foolishness;
and you’ve
still persisted,
pushing buttons like this.

Sapling.

What does this woman want?

She wants to be secure,

wants to be assured,

wants to feel beholden,

to bring warmth to the touch of her master;

And, what does the man want?

He wants to greedily admire,

wants to be twice as admired,

wants to burn eternal,

to forever sizzle within at the sight of his object;

The equation seems simple,

closeness shall draw the rest together, in turn,

a man and a woman are natural companions,

the admiration one holds for the other,

is not enough – has never been enough,

will never be enough to purge,

from the spirit of the man,

or from the soul of the woman,

the sapling that lies within the belly of both,

grown from the seed of Lust and Blood,

one, the child of Fear and Jealousy,

the other, born to War and Desire,

now together – now ripped at the seam,

the dark hours are the battleground,

on which we strike our most memorable,

and powerful of blows,

to behold the single rogue,

sweat drop as it defiantly rolls

from your brow down the bridge of your nose

and disappears in the corner of my eye, as usual.

 

Syrupy.

My skin’s sticky,

lips are salty,

licked by curiosity,

piqued to the extreme,

  • so syrupy,

my skin’s on fire

desire is,

a growing thing,

a thickly veiled,

  • necessity,

secret thoughts,

I’m entertaining…

 

come down here

lay next to me,

read from your books,

in the darkness to me,

  • tell me stories,

make me believe

in the God,

we both know you can be,

the line gets taut,

  • now I’m listening,

My Lord, My King,

I’m unworthy…

 

…and, this is the language

in your name, I speak.

Since You Asked.

The very time when

you came lumbering in

the dizziness began

my head wanted to swim,

 

a spank on a slippery butt-cheek

swallowed by lust, immediately

happy to thrust myself on your feet

an instantaneous subservient deed,

 

I suffered fits of double vision

a drunken, poisoned intuition

intoxication of the madly driven

strained my ears to better listen,

 

I entertained thoughts of you and me

while I sat in the corner so quietly

watching how you were successfully

strong-arming me, telepathically,

 

I swooned at your easy speech

I ached for your hands to dominate me

I would’ve begged, just as easily

you struck me most exceptionally,

 

all I will as say to what we became

how I never tire of screaming your name

You’ve said I’ve proven impossible to tame

and that was no matter, it’s all in the game,

 

you know I’m fragile and broken to bits

it never stops you from handling shit

when it comes to me, you still so “do it”

there it is: I dare you to chew it up and swallow it.

 

 

 

Bubble Bath.

I thought you’d left while I was in the bubble bath;

So I paraded around sporting bitchy tits ‘n ass…

I wrapped myself up in your freshly washed towel;

telling myself I was glad that you were gone now…

Silly me; you actually never had gone anywhere at all;

I found you standing quietly with your mouth opened in awe …

Beads of sweat dot your head; a crown of liquefied guilt;

Swallowed whole – from all you know; desire you’ve never felt…

And when you see my red-ruby pouting start to pucker,

and sense how my insides tense;  you sexy mother-fucker…

Lick me clean of my tears – salted by such childish fears;

strike a match against the fuse between the filthy and the pure…

tonight I stroke your hidden side – that displaced face you always hide;

Allow me to perfect your view of how a good girl will abide…

you stood there, your hands wringing with intensity;

shirtless and hungry like a pre-meditative beast,

I was yours bendable expendable – that’s right,  wrapped up tight;

And you were yourself – an animal, ever-ready to bite…

the time became a sucking noise from the drain,

you manhandled my body and I hijacked your brain;

I’m glad you never left while I was in the bubble bath;

it’s sad to think about it now after so much time has passed.

.

 

Let Me.

Let me write of the way that my very genetics yearn,
Blood pumping so fiercely that my skin starts to burn.
Tingles and sweat drops, hot spots – oceans, the tides turn;
Now it’s my turn on top; and I won’t stop until you finally learn.
Let me illustrate a circumstance, in which your eyes are locked to mine,
Let me orchestrate the wet Rain Dance that stops the pace of time.
Swirled inside of ecstasy, next to me – your “everything” is fine;
The entire world is frozen besides the warmth of my insides.
Let me warn you of the influence that my surrender tends to hold,
My face is shy, my body is small; but this spirit is fierce and bold.
For it’s been said that if I get in your head, your legs will surely fold;
And for a tongue that’s made of silver, so goes a heart of solid gold.
Let me remind you of a time that was just our own in time,
The sun shone down to brighten this saddened face of mine.
I lay wrapped around your chisels like a serpentine;
and you indulged in the flavor of my best Moonshine.
Let me emphasize how I long for you so desperately,
to feel your fingertips as they grip at my body,
here I sit in solitude like you prefer that I remain,
until you decide to feel obliged to return to me again.

Come.

Come see me –

this night;

in my dark cornered dreams

I beg of you to make me scream;

Come touch me –

Once more;

sweat your saliva from my pores

cut the wire and kick in the door;

Come stay with me –

come closer; revive;

wake me up until I come alive

let me feed the carnivorous side;

Come with me –

come in; confide;

touch every steaming hot place inside

never look into my crying eyes;

Come ruin me –

this night;

see my body writhe beneath

Come tonight and leave me empty.

Try Me.

Try me, spicy,
cursive Roman lettering…
A secret alphabet,
Dicey;
enticing the skin
of my fingertips;
dividing the places
between my hips;
underneath, and
in between,
how did you know?
How can you be?
The Keeper of
the lock and key…
when I
can’t even find the thing?
Try me, scarface,
nemojte me obožavaju?…
Made of bones –
Which dialect
Do you know?
si me obožavaju?
can’t you understand?
Made of flesh –
And strung
around your neck,
you want it wet…
I’m in your net.
Please?
Release…
Try me, Handsome,
I’m yours for sure
Your unsecret whore,
Of the North Shore.
Made of stones,
tell me…
who is right and wrong?
It does not matter,
It never will,
Let me in –
Let me kill;
Your darkest chatter,
Be it gone,
so that my ears
will hear…
your every love song.
Push me and pull me
Carry on…
I hear you
I see you
I know your soul,
you know that I do…
it can’t be controlled;
it won’t be withheld,
that wouldn’t be fair…
tongues and tresses,
swallowed air…
necklaces of skulls and things,
bite marks and ink stains;
I love your pleasures,
you love my pains.
What the fuck
was my point again?

Hurt So Right.

Oh so much pressure,
building up
inside of
my eyes;
Know that I measure,
many crumbs
in spite of
my size;
For whom I treasure,
to perceive
tonguing the seams
of my mind;
Steeping with pleasure,
belting out
aloud and proud
my cries;
Too low down to measure,
climbing up
the liquid tendons
chopped cleanly rough;
Oh so much pressure,
blue, passive-
aggressive
I love the ride.

Overstuffed.

 

Friday night
in the black and white filmstrip,
an evening wind licks,
howls out clear and crisp,
can’t quite catch my breath;
heart-heavy –
touch your hand to my heart
and get ready –
the whip cracks back,
bitten into my bottom lip,
the tension slacks
and I twitched under your fingertips;
in rhythmic and seamless movements;
flows dominantly –
touch tongue to skin
and the outs and ins you find fitting –
burned through the dark,
your eyes made out of twinkly skies,
hand-fed meals for my Master,
a mouth full of sugary lies,
your touch
breaks my spirit down;
leaves it for dead –
your voice
sings the revival
non-stop in my head –
my body is awe-stricken,
whip-lashed into submission,
flipped front and back,
on your overstuffed bed.