PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Sweet screams follow each other one by one,

Luscious fruits of your masterful labors,

High-pitched surrenders proving that you've won

Which garner vain complaints from the neighbors.

When my ecstasy reaches fever pitch

You gamely prove it can go higher still.

I bow to your knowledge, the skill with which

You coax my body to bend to your will.

The way you hold me cannot be outdone.

I’m no mere presence or means to an end.

In the morning when we wake to the sun

My good fortune is hard to comprehend.

In your arms I come apart at the seams,

Sleeping most soundly before sweeter screams.