I recall a muffled flash of indignity
when my brain cracked an eye open
and squinted past the haze of lust
to see that I’d been utterly upended.
Legs hitched over your shoulders,
hips arched from the ground,
suspended in your fingers…
Your eyes sparked, and your head ducked
back behind a mess of violet tulle–
My inverted skirt.

Whatever wickedness your tongue reveled in then
remained masked to me
as my shoulders ground into the carpet
and my lower belly beaded sweat.

And when your fingers dug into my sides,
they stuck and grounded me–
Even as my torso wrenched
into the pleasured twist
that shattered my
vision to

3 comments on “Disjointed

  1. Theo Black says:

    This is so physical and sensory. Such a concise way of getting the moment across.

    • Thank you, I’m glad you think so. 🙂 I like trying to write poetry like a series of snapshots. Mayhaps it’s this digital age getting me hooked on the immediacy.

      • Theo Black says:

        Well it works. As poetry and fantasy. I guess it’s not strange that something so erotic can be rendered with beauty, but it’s kind of rare.

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