cunnilingus, damn good, erotic poetry, fellatio, flip flop fly, healing, oral sex, playing hoopsnake, poem, sonnet
The night is round and black, like your throat just
as you gag me down whole. You squirm, settle
your rump on my face. Slow grind as I thrust
my tongue deeper. Hell is straight boy coital,
but as I pull out concerned you gasp: “More!”
For years we put the one in lonely; now,
somehow, we’re two … even if you once swore
how all my kind made you spew. Cum is how
we cure hate. 6-2-9. We’ve got this licked
while I suck the good parts of your soul out.
I prayed for a lover and then you came.
Now we cum. They say that nothing’s perfect,
but this? So damn good. That’s what I’m about
with you: to heal from lives of scorn and shame.