Love & Sex

i see him, straight
yet she seems perfect for my skin

i need her lips
sweet plump
and tantric i presume

some things can women
often better than men do

unless we go there, specify the time and date
he was beyond his scope
his breath was poison-laced

he kissed me soft pause deep
then desperation, fire

that instant
give up

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Could I love you?

Could I love you?

The way you look at me;
The way you touch me;
The way your voice plays across my mind;
The way you kiss my fingers;
The way you play with my hair;
The way you smile at me;
The way you make me tingle;
The way you make my heart skip;
The way you care.
The way.
Your way.

Your way is the best way I've ever gone.
I don't think I could take a wrong turn when you are around.
When you are away, my mind runs to you.
When you are away, my palms are trying to imitate your touch.
When you are away, I smile for your reason.
When you are away, you are never away.

It's when we are alone,
even with others...we are alone.
No one has ever made me feel like a queen.
Princess, yes, but you, You, must be the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.
You think you won. Not once, not twice but three times.
Truth of the matter is, you might have won the battles.
But sweetheart, I won the war.

I wish I could say exactly how I feel.
I know you'd like to hear it, or maybe not...
I know you would like to hear me say those words.
Those words that I've always been throwing to the wind.
I cannot. I cannot. I cannot.
I do not want this.
I mean, I want this.
I don't want more...If that makes any sense.

I have this thing, where I try to see ahead of time.
It's scary.
My future doesn't look that bright.
I wish you could be my light. My light.
You light up the tunnel, but the tunnel is ending.
The wall is so close.
I should jump it.
Or go right through, you give me enough strenght to do so.
You make me strong, yet weak.

I know myself too well.
In fact, I don't know myself at all.
All I know, is that this, this thing we have is breathtaking.
You are breathtaking.
The contour of your lips, the softness, the way they leave me wanting more.
The way our heart rate matches up when we...make love.
The way we sync up.
Scribe to scribe.

I fit so perfectly in your chest. My nook.
Your strong arms around me, the perfect size of your body.
The way I need to stand on my toes to actually kiss you,
the way, I have to make an effort.
The way you cannot stay away from me.
The way I cannot stay away from you.
The way.
Your way.

I am a beast. I was a beast.
Take, take, take...and leave the ones I love ruthlessly bleeding on the ground.
The last thing I want to do is to hurt you, in any way.
That is my nature though. That is what I've always done.
I am a woman,
I don't know what I want.
I know what I don't want.
I need stability. I need courage. I live for myself.
If they let me, I'll go somewhere, I'll get far.
I might not be able to fly, but I got my two feet to get me there.

Come with me.
You need ambition.
You need plans.
You need to learn independence.
Just like me.
We might not have it all together,
but together we might have it all.

We need to grow up.
We haven't been able to take care of ourselves for so long...
How can we take care of each other?

Could I love you?
I think I could. But do I want to?
It might hurt,
I guess all I can do is pray.
Could I love you?
I could,
I could,
I could...
But that doesn't mean I will.

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The Approach

The approach is the extent of your reach
before intruding upon a personal boundary.

It states an intention without the exposure,
setting the tone for the pursuit or escape.

The approach begins at the eyes,
and may end at the waist, or at the open palm,
before imploding, exploding or fizzling out.

The approach is a delicate thing to behold.

Boundless fields of belly and cleavage
that seek to invite and mournfully scorn;
dare the approach, dependent on gazes
that lay down decision to the company kept.

Men act so passive and blatantly stare,
while women sneak glances and whispers beneath -
Neither directly nor indiscreetly;
the opposite sex with the opposite mind.

Eventually, someone dares to approach.

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Curves Over Words

She wouldn't be my warmth that night,
or most nights in between.
She couldn't see my face to feel
the nerves that sing beneath.
She'd heard about the pills I take
and told me they were good
as long as they could keep me here,
above the coffer wood.
She'd said some things I can't recall,
about an older how and why;
the logic that had prevailed before
when we'd care to try.
She wanted us to be all right
and share our words within,
but I could not be bothered to
connect without her skin.
Now I sit here wondering
of the ends to which I march.
Will they leave me satisfied,
or fearful in the dark.
She told me that I'm stronger than
the man I tend to see;
that I had fought and bested that
which sought to conquer me.
She said that she admired such-
she says I'm just like new.
But I hadn't heard so many things,
while watching as she moved.

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This morning
I woke you from your dreams
and you were my girl
I gently caressed your face
and you were my baby
I softly whispered, "I love you"
and you were my sweetheart

But that was this morning
and hours have since passed

The look in your eyes now
excited, timid, and unsure
of what I'm gonna do next
as I pin you against the wall
Our faces, so close
Forehead to forehead
Lips almost touching
but not tonight
Kisses are for lovers
and there is no love here
You are not my sweetheart
from this morning
and I am not the man
that gently caressed your face
I am a strong and lustful beast
and you...
You are nothing more
than just my prey

I move in and smell
the sweet aroma
of your neck
and breathe lightly on it
causing surges to race
along your spine
You wrap your arms
around me and draw me close
The space between us
instantly vanishes
And now, I can feel
your heartbeat screaming
pounding against my chest
as I nibble upon your earlobe
"Oh baby, please take me now"
You whisper passionately
setting off an explosion
of sexual fury within me
Violently, I tear away
the chothing that hides
your innocent body
Your shirt, discarded
like unwanted trash
as you frantically
squirm free from your jeans
You don't even bother
to kick them away
Your attention pulled elsewhere
and you stare seductively
into my lustful eyes
as you reach behind
unfastening your bra
Meanwhile, I'm fiercely
ripping your panties off
that mock me with their presence
You stand facing me
with your bare back
pressed against the wall
Naked, exposed
and helplessly vulnerable
to my devious desires
I take a moment
to absorb the sight
Soaking in every curve
of your sexy body
My chest raises and falls
with deep and heavy breaths
of dirty passion, sexual rage
and burning anticipation

I will ravish your body
I will fully control you
because tonight
I completely OWN you
...and your entire sexuality
belongs solely to me

This morning
I may have woken
loving you as my baby
But tonight...
I'm gonna fuck you
as if I despise you.

- June 3 / 2011

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my FIRST ATTEMPT at writing a poem about sex. Critiques and feedback would be greatly appreciated since this is something I would like to get better at writing. Thanks

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Libido's Casket

In patterned memorial, the afflicted lie:
a tattered reflection of a formerly-possessed splendor.
Wide hands, angled jaw, a physique to behold
as that belonging to someone with an attentive touch.

Just as the calm of the service has sunk into gloom,
the subject of remembrance has risen to sitting.
And he spies the mourning, weeping and now thoroughly shocked
payers of respect to what was his expiration.

With a bound to the carpet, removed from his cask,
the whites of his eyes the only signal of spirit;
he grabs by the wrist a young and pretty woman
and slips into her as if by discretion.

The crowd then disperses and the services cast
aside as the subject has ways with his minx,
and after they've finished and gone separate ways,
he'll only stand to die again when it comes most convenient.

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Subject of Embracing

I am reaching for a potency
to ease the restlessness in me
and in doing so I ought to be
aware of my dichotomy.

The half of pent-up energy
has odds with all anatomy,
and shouts about its time to seek
a solace from this shell of weeds.

The other watches mildly,
all blinking eyes and ill-at-ease -
its mind abuzz with things-to-be;
expression drifting vacantly.

Whoever would encounter these
halves a-whole in some degree
may go away or stay to see
what concludes of he-complete.

Depending on their urgency,
they may feel love or some discreet
wash of feeling in shades of pink
that draw them close in coming weeks.

And all that's left is lunacy,
and complex need for subtlety;
all the while we hit the sheets
and do something about our needs.

I wanna . . . .

I wanna spend some quality time with you,
get to know the ins and outs of you,
I wanna explore every portion of your eyes,
the way they light up when ever we mmmmmm,

I wanna talk about any and everything,
I wanna excite your mind and every sense,
I wanna exchange ideas and goals,
I wanna release my soul....

I wanna taste every inch of you,
not leaving one ounce of you untasted,
I wanna explore your lips and tongue,
the curve of your neck and and jawline,

I wanna let my fingers explore unknown,
and untouched places, I wanna go where
no woman ever dared to go before or will again,
yeah I wanna be more than just a friend....

I like the way you touch me so delicately,
the way your nose brushes against my hair,
yes I noticed how you enjoy my scent and
oh yeah sweety I wanna enjoy yours too!

I mean I wanna get down and funky with it,
do things till the moon falls back around and
the sun kisses the sky....
Yeah baby I wanna fly so high with you....

I hope you wanna too . . . .

Copyrights 2011-2015 Chicahuac Necahuatl

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just how I'm feeling right now!

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Bronze Hilltops

Your use is weighed by tangibles
that can't be shunned or scattered,
set aside or multiplied,
or held by none but you.
Your meat and bones organic,
your bowing sway hypnotic;
familiar things reviled when
we cast our stones apart.
You were never loose to me,
at least when ways were mine,
but apprehensive I could be when
my hands devoured yours.
Still I find an appetite
always whetted by the thought
of sinking fingers into flesh
after the chase has quieted.
Displaced bronze hilltops
always spilling into place,
below a rattled cage of static
and storms contained by words.
Despite the frame of broken
mind and will towards we,
who once had been enveloping
each other with our woes;
I'd never cease my pushing
against your highest borders,
and with your wish, I would abstain
until you come to call again.

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