Swimmin in all these women (and some men)

💀💀💀💀 the prophecy was correct

((Poem draft))

I want his rough hands,

nicotine soaked digits,

sinking his grip into my slack jaw,

a thumb slow and deliberate

tracing my bottom lip.

The musky scent of tobacco.

Let it linger on the fragile soft flesh

of my innocent mouth,

so that every time I take a breath

I feel his touch dance across my skin.

Chart the course he explores

running rough hands all over my body,

Aqua di giò marking the spots

where his body would press into mine.

Let him take all of me reckless

Let him Use me up selfish

Let his want be possessive

Make me addicted, obsessive

Blood would rush from my blushed face

losing the breath in my own chest

With just a glance

from those dark eyes and furrowed brow

accompanied by the soft lines

that mark his years of expertise

in making angel’s knees buckle

I’ll worship every symphonic syllable

Melting from his depraved mouth

Like sweet autumn afternoon honey,

or the dripping blood of claimed prey

And when the crescendo has faded

After the shuddering waves cascade

through my soul and flesh

the hazy steam of sex hanging around us

dissolves into a lazy smile

looking down to see my cheek

pressed to his chest,

rising and falling with satisfied exhaustion

A stupid joke,

A warm roll of my eyes

And as sleep overcomes us