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It is our transgression
We do not pray for forgiveness
Yet we call out the Lord’s name
we let it consume us whole
as we devour each other

I do not eat you…
I feast on you
Sip your woman wine
Dine on your plump fruit
Consume your cherry
There are no calories
But I eat until I am obese

Succumb to ravenous want
Selfish indulgence
Make you proclaim yours as mine
‘who’s pussy is this?’
Cause you to surrender
Always wanting more

Slow motions
This is how we relish us
Lazy slow waist rotations
Slide in deep
Lounge inside your tightness
Tongue takes leisurely stroll across your clit

is the passion you ride me with fury
With angry lust
Beg for me to release my vengeance upon you
Demand it
Command me
to punish your naughty misbehaviour
Roar loud
As we sex with hateful-passion

Our senses battle
Try to gain pole position
In the receiving of the sensory carnival of pleasure
They become confused
Fingers see
Eyes touch
Ears inhales
Nose taste
Mouth listens
Neighbours resent us
They know my name
Yet we are yet to know theirs

We prove it does not come before a fall
It comes after we do
We relish in superciliousness of pleasure given
Overly confident of our performance
Senses self-assured in the bliss received
Reveal as our bodies smile
Self-righteous sweet completion
Smug in the bliss of warm afterglow

We are seven …

Categories: poems
  1. Dee
    November 21, 2012 at 4:03 pm

    **Love it** a personification of “what it is”

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