Hard Freeze

Between my thighs, his
hand hard, like any dull edge;

above the collarbone, his
tongue and lips, like any rough fabric;

the second knuckle of his index finger
sucked, blooming, between my teeth

into someone who is not you.



28 notes

Show

  1. speakthesewords reblogged this from poetbabble
  2. assassinpoems reblogged this from poetbabble
  3. passionofashkan said: Someone who is not you is always the erotic imaginaire — a very concrete imaginaire both hard as knuckles and soft as the pulp of a tendered heart. Like the marrow of desire the must nutritious nectar sucked off the bone.
  4. zaedilux said: hot damn, girl
  5. poetbabble posted this