Tag Archives: erotic poetry

His Shape

I dream about his shape.

The way his sword glides into me
enchants every opening with force
and gentle ferocity.

The way softness stiffens
and stiffness softens.

The way I am opened wide,
held precariously,
pounded furiously,
and tenderly taught real dominance.

I surrender.
Captivated by his shape.
Captured freely.
Dominated by surety of wild warrior
caressing his prize with abandon
whilst caring to not break body or spirit.

His shape, like his words,
creates pools of time in my soul
where fantasy marries reality
and two create a space for one.

Surrendered one.


Delicate Craving

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A delicate craving begins to smoulder.
The finest wisp of smoke arises.
I thought perhaps erotic passion had drowned in grief.
After all, how could I express sensual murmurs and orgasmic quests
while memorial services are wrapped around families’ ankles
and draped all over the internet?
Even so, this delicate craving has snuck past sorrow
and found life in your grace.

Who Would You Like To See?

Taking a rare dip into the rhyming pool. 🙂

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Who would you like to see
inside the ‘scape of me?

A wispy angel blond
with violet eyes anon?

A freckled imp with grace,
pouty lips and oval face?

Or maybe you would like to see
my ravenous slut finally free?
Bound only by cuffs
and pleasures delight
or maybe silk scarves
as I’m pounded through night.

Inside the ‘scape of me
resides each one and more,
neither fickle of heart
or lust evermore.

My heart burnished in gold,
overflows with love.

My touch gentle yet sure
finding every sweet spot.
My tongue an adventurer
giving pleasure as sought.

Who would you like to see
inside the ‘scape of me?


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I am a song
that’s not been sung
until now.

Whispers turning into roars.
Moans rising like vaporous
tendrils of luscious
liquid kisses
consuming your
sword of light
only to reignite it.

Spirit Lover tastes of
fine wine and musky flora,
spicy and fragrant,
intoxicating, edible,
and delicious to
awakened palate’s

This raging furnace
that is now me
and moves as
red hot lava
carving pathways
through valley and stream,
village and skyscrapers,
virgins and victors.

Feasting between your legs
whole universes explode
as we collide
in time
and space,
soul and flesh,
spirit and mind,

I see.
I feel.
I know.

The Priestess is awake.

Wild & Free

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Wind is speaking with a lover’s chant
beating breath against my neck in rhythmic yes.

Water holding liquid space like orgasmic shockwaves
pulse and push in pleasure places.

Wanton whispers insist their way through my skin
and touch Heart’s throbbing space
and continue to move through my vessel.

Unseen Lover’s touch matches my rise and fall;
bodies in a pleasure ballet of sensory dance.



Diving deep in Love’s holy grip.
I won’t go back.
I won’t look back.

Where is it I would go?

Not back.
I can’t go back.

Love’s grip holds my chaste heart
with tender mercy and violent passion.
Love issues wave after wave of passion’s pleasure
and heaven’s peace into the desert of my heart.

I am loved.
I am fucked.
I am powerful.

I am priestess and virgin,
mother and whore,
crone and courtesan.

My desert has become paradise,
an oasis of pleasure.

Drink deep.
Devour me.
I am yours.


Photo credit: ‘Into The Wind’ by Robert Dawson