A sensual poem

My contoured form sat between
your lengthy splayed thighs
Chin nuzzled and hand
firm at my neck
A wandering finger seeks out
the moisture on a scrolled lip

Looking to strike the right chord
you twist my pegs
Sweeping strokes
drawing and pulling the bow
over my taut exposed nerves

A sensual poem

A loosened shirt revealing the view.
Tiny buttons awkwardly undone
by large fingers.
Hot breath warm on
rising and falling breasts.

Your full face nuzzled between
the softest of rubenesque mounds.
It has been too long
since their weight has been measured
by the cupping of lover’s hands.

Lips trace…

The Lonely Star

My bed now a place of solitude,
was once a place where skin touched skin and shivers ran deep.
Where our scents merged and Alchemy was divine.
Where pleasure was gentle and sometimes excitedly edged on pain.
Lips and hips entwined in magnetic push and pull.
Where…

a poem

no words
can’t find the right words
indescribable

just a something-ness in the nothingness
nothing comes to mind
oh to be mindfully mindless

misplaced in a world of placements
a dislodged lodger
speechless but heard so loud
paused — time stops

erase the board
chalk dust dispersed upon the wind
clean slate…

a poem

waiting
I feel I am the only thing
tangible
in a world of ghosts
questioning my very existence
I prick myself to draw blood

perhaps,
I'm the ghost,
a denied apparition
lurking,
an intangible
hidden in corners
within someone's psyche

a spirit
within a spirit

A poem

a flurry
squall of white
particles dancing on diffused light
everything muted, colour and sound
every flake a cosmic geometric wonder
make a wish upon a billion stars
as they land upon the eyelashes of gazes held so softly
now, we enter a season of rest
beneath a veil of crystalline white…

a poem

chill on bare legs
the sound of naked toes pressing onto wooden planks
lids lower over grit and barely left sleep
fingertip caress on cupid’s bow
drifting into sensuous desires
more real than real
refrigerator hum drowned by a ringing ear
forever in your head, never alone

Denise G

Writing is the path back to me and my artwork and photography a reflection of my soul.

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