NaPoWriMo 19: Morning Glory

Sometimes
as you’re waking
I touch you just this way–
and everything seems to
open

Your lips
eyes
nostril flare
and much lower, here–

–see?
All widening
all receptive

And you can’t seem to take in enough
breath
visual
scent
myself

Greedy one
the only choice you leave
for me, who views you thus
is to fill you over
and over
until you spill

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NaPoWriMo 14: Thank you love

“I love your hair like that, you know
when it wildly frames your face
in a disarrayed saint’s halo
and I love as well
the careless way
you let my tshirt hang from your shoulder
when you’re curled up
all vulnerable-like
on the living room couch,”
you say.
Pointedly
a strap-on dangles
from your finger.

I sit in my throne of discarded tissue
regally extend a hand
and snatch a fresh one from the box.
Pointedly
I empty my nose
into it.

“…A little snot
can be sexy,”
you persist
with your most endearing
eyebrow waggle.

I drink my soup broth
silently
and stare.

“Perhaps just
gropey snuggles
and some Game of Thrones?”
you ask and sidle closer
exchanging strap-on
for remote.

I give you
my most begrudgingly
affectionate grunt
and scootch over on our couch
to make room.

“Thank you love,”
you smile
and nestle close to me
as tenderly you reach
and grab my ass.

NaPoWriMo 1: Warmer Weather

It has come a bit late to my attention that April marks the start of National Poetry Writing Month. I have already missed the first three days. But given that poetry is a particular penchant of mine, I feel like three days isn’t too belated to hop on board and give this a shot. Here’s a late Day 1 for me; I look forward to reading what others come up with as well!

~Smithy
———————————————————-

Snow forecasted again today.
12 to 18 inches.
You shivered at the window
and said you missed warmer weather

Which is why I asked you to imagine
that my tongue and fingers
belonged to an enamored sun
who you’d come to
gorgeous bare
to have bronze licked into your skin.

I urged you to lie back
and look for shapes
in the chilled vapor clouds
that we breathed into being
with every warming thrust

You’d shivered underneath me then
and parted your legs to my heat

And so I had you the way
wind seizes the branch
and made pleasure
fall
from your
hips, like
leaves

Comely woman

Sorry that posting has been scarce of late folks. Adjusting to a lot of new responsibilities this semester, which have been sucking up the majority of my time. That said, I’ll certainly still be around. Too much imagery knocking around the brain to keep it all bottled up. You just might not be seeing me as regularly. Cheers!

~Wordsmith

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Comely woman

She wore her beauty unpolished
casually
slipping off one cinnamon shoulder
and tying snug around generous hips.

Dusky eyes
calloused fingers
and a too-loud laugh
breaking like brass
from the kind of mouth
a straight man
couldn’t look at
without imagining it
on his cock.

Happiness looked good on her
and she wore it out often.

Slick-tongued and pert

She could always grab up
my attention in fistfuls
and drag it hungry behind her
across the room
where perhaps
[likely]
lounged the beautiful man
she’d drop that laugh on
and drag hungry
upstairs
out of my sight for the evening.

And with scotch burning
fresh in the back of my throat
I’d always struggle
one more time to decide

whether I wanted to be her or fuck her.