I thought about you,
craving your silken touch.
I was shaking,
fever raging
from my desire for you.
I imagined your lips,
delicious and warm,
and my body trembled,
unsated,
needing your touch.
From my window,
there was a speck of a blood red moon,
which only served to remind me of you.
I closed my eyes,
needing rest,
yet I thought of you still.
My desire won out.
I could taste you on my lips.
I was dreaming while awake,
hungering for your kiss,
recalling images of fingers
exploring hidden places.
The passionate nights fled
without a visible trace,
but left a trail of fire.
And still I thought about you,
pressing gently into me,
wanting my satin touch,
the brush of your lips against my neck,
a mere featherlike caress across my flesh,
yet a tempest unleashed.
What did you thinnk?
Comments
-
Romantic and slightly erotic, I like the tone you set so early on it really carries the reader through the poem. My only criticism would be that the piece doesn't really change from beginning to end. (It's probably just my desire for a standard form of beginning, middle and end...) It seems like we pick up and are left off in almost the same place. Otherwise, I like the imagery and the feelings you evoke with this. I will be back to read more of your writing soon.
Adding your comment:
