Slippery
Slippery
By Beth Cortez-Neavel
and I could not sleep
all I could think about
was how you told me you
wanted me to spread them
and how you liked that I got so juicy.
and I opened the window
letting the cool October air
whisper over me
my nipples grew hard
my hands forgot themselves
and I began to wander
and the sirens
that wail in the middle of the night
did not bother me
and the light from the alley
falling into my window
could not reach me
and my smooth thighs
quivered
thinking of you
thinking of me
and it was slippery
and I was warm
my face was flushed
my forehead sweaty
my pupils dilated
and my hands were in
and out
and around
and became their own rhythm.
and my toes curled.
and my breathe came
hard like I did.
and
and I could not sleep because
all I could think about was how much I love you
how much I needed
you
to touch me.
©
Wow, i felt this one…and i’m not even a woman…in a former life i was. Erotic poetry is written a lot better by women i think. I’ll put an erotic image in a line or two in my own poems…like making love in the ballpit at McDonalds but that’s not as romantic and is mixed with humor. Poet Sharon Old’s uses erotica very aptly and seriously, however…i might recommend ‘Satan Says’ book or look up ‘Sex Without Love’ poem. This poem is a good archetype being purely on the subject, though.
I ran across a ‘Best Erotica Poems’ in the Poetry section at Barnes/Nobles the other day, i might have to check it out and pay more attention to this genre within. Thx Ms. Neavel. You’ve got balls to post this.