- Erotic Poetry
- The Mouth is a Warm Glove
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Do you need help with your slacks?
It seems that the buckle is stuck.
Let me undo you with my teeth.
I can tell you are big in your pants.
I’ve known from a mile’s distance.
In private I often touch myself,
using your hand as my guide.
Should you draw near to me,
I shall measure you with my mouth.
Let’s see how much slides inside.
You’re not as tough as they say.
In fact, you’re quite agreeable.
What’s this that I see, honey?
Are you wearing my face for lust?
It is your own personal pocket.
Live out your vision if you please,
for I am inevitably doing the same.
Should you need a good sucking,
I am here at your earliest call.
My flower is obscene at plucking.
Our clothes are shed to the side.
No matter: We’re nasty on the quiet.
My mouth shall be your glove.
Are you afraid you may lose it all?
You struggle to hold composure.
That is all very well: the delay
will pay me kindly in pearl ropes.
There’s no need to fiddle or stall:
Let yourself paint my throat.
I’ve heard you are quite the artist.
