PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Cigarette stench

On my button down shirt.

Proof of the night I've endured.

Proof of your skirt.

Of your smile that lured

Through pleasant convo.

That modest ensemble

That makes you pure.

That precious lager

That makes you sing the current song with me.

Oh how you long to be

Within my grasp.

I see it through your cheek bones.

Reddened zone.

Yes, take one drag at last.

Throw away that cancer stick.

And I'll be your disease.

Make you sick with ease

Smothering your eyelids

With a touch of silence

As I reach your lips.

Soft with all the drinks you've sat and sipped.

Come now... Meet me at the hall

Outside the bathroom stall.

Clean away from all the drunks.



Unequip the butterfly clip

And let your hair loose as it falls.

Locked no longer in a crypt of rules so somber

As we break them all in all.

Take them... Make them

Scream and crawl

For help as we shed inhibitions.

Fed on our collision.

Fueled by every breath that reeks precision.

Driven... by every straying hand

And all the feels we're given.

Touching by the kitchen.

Kissing... all that's missing.

Holding all your body cold

So close to mine...

Breathing on... that open spot

Between your face and shoulder.

Neck so ripe for just an aching tongue

To taste you bolder...

Kiss me... Kiss me... even more.

Melt your body unto me and feel us pour

Inside this seedy bar

Right by the kitchen there.

Hiding from unwelcome stares.

Skirt pressed up against my pants.

Find our rhythm.

Stomach bare begins to dance.

Find our rhythm.

Skin on skin provides the trance to

Find our rhythm.

Friction, fiction in our chants.

Grind our rhythm.

Arms that pull your aching glance

Into my vacant stance.

Blind by rhythm.

Lurid meeting just by chance.

Grind our rhythm.

Feel the sweat throughout our dance.

Climb our rhythm.

Hand that slides under your shirt

And makes you pant.

Sign our rhythm.



Fingers running up your spine.

Lust that only seems to climb

Your magic mountain.

Makes us pour delicious lies.

Erotic fountain.

Here we stand without a guise

Tracing light around our cries.

Shadows... by the kitchen there

Stretch out to the hall and catch a stare.

Shadows... on the floor tonight

Silhouettes of two so wet dissolve through lack of light.

Merge into each other through a melting touch

And catch their harmony so right.

Find our rhythm.