Tag Archives: cunnilingus

scar [rewrite]

05 Monday Aug 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Feminism, Poetry, sonnet

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I can trace the scars on her shoulders, thick
as my finger, grotesque tattoos that wrap
around each arm. I can kiss her lithic
muscles making her tremble. She could snap
my spine like that. She has killed thirteen men
like that. When I play with her softest part,
that part I will not name, that talisman
you call a lifetime of love, my dear heart
blooms. It’s not words but other’s secrets
that that I won’t share. When I light her lucky
strike she bucks, gushes like a volcano’s
blow, clamping my face in place. Her ringlets
tease my nose. I love her, from her forty
sword hacked scars to each of her missing toes.

NOTE:

This is a rewrite of a poem I posted back in March.

drink you dry

05 Monday Aug 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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And we are physical shape; to give voice,
to feel, to give pause, I brush out your hair
(no there was no hairbrush, only a choice
to comb my fingers through the empty air
where your hair might once have been). So tonight
I hope you will not be disappointed.
And since I’ve drunk from your gash of sunlight
I think I’ve become sad at your wasted
beauty. I have a purple bruise on one
ankle. True. I don’t know you as keenly
as I thought I did. I have grown remote
under my skin. No frenzy. Please listen.
Once I drank you dry but now I simply
gag on the rose left blooming in my throat.

wily weird sisters

05 Monday Aug 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Don’t trust stories where boys, down in the kelp,
steal seal-skins from nude girls – they all end grisly.
Only a wily weird sister can help
romance a seal-girl. Go out to the sea
in a cow-hide boat. She will stand, murmur
love spells to the waves. The seal will surface,
then climb on board. A watery cat-purr
is sign of a selkie stirred. Seamless
is her fleshy skin, still, she wriggles out
as you cuddle her head and your sister
grips her hips, her mouth on her slit-pout,
licking up a storm. A seal-girl lover
will want you both, will soak your lips and chin.
That’s how you drive a seal out of her skin.

NOTE:

Stories and legends of sea spirits that live as seals in the ocean but have the ability shed their skin to become human on land can be found throughout Iceland, the Shetlands, the Orkneys, Northern England, Scotland and Ireland. The film The Secret of Roan Inish (1994) was based on such a myth.

sugar on the tongue

05 Monday Aug 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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In the candle light you fix your slack hair.
The rose oil you rubbed on each of your breasts
has been sucked off or was it the cold air
that made your nipples erect? What suggests
passion? The way each swollen lip attests
to our kisses? Your back still holds finger
nail marks, as if your skin made slight protests
during the heat of passion. This tender
night is like sugar on the tongue, sugar
that burns the blood. Sugar to slowly lick
off. Sit in your bath, another’s moisture
gathers on your bare skin. Let my tongue flick
everywhere, licking your sugar, making
you melt, climax like candle wax burning.

husk thorn

04 Sunday Aug 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Secret garden, wild grassland and brambles;
I’ve strayed between the highlands of your wilds,
seeking your sweet fruit in bittersweet curls.
Virgin woods? whatever, nothing defiles
you more than a dry spell when husk thorns reign.
The sun burns through your bush, dries your puddles,
and your poor untasted fruit prays for rain.
I’ve been among poppies, tasted thistles,
slept with foxtail. Like the horny goat, weeds
are no problem. Your curls part at my kiss.
Your red chaparral flushes green. Big flood
coming. You are, too. My tongue tweaks and kneads
your clit. First you dew my face, then you mist,
gush and geyser, drenching like sticky blood.

bless me with all

03 Saturday Aug 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tell me about your sea. Bless me with all

that makes the tide flow sweet out of your hips.

I know what the seawall knows, what the wall

wants but can’t have. If a single stone slips

out of place the sea will gush in, drowning

this dry mouth of land. And, unlike the wall,

I am not afraid to drown, swallowing

all you can offer. I’ll swallow it all,

gag it down, wanting one more little death.

Let me hear the whale song humming deeply

inside your chest, sleep in the kelp forest

between your thighs. Divers must hold their breath

going down, but I’ll let your undersea

kingdom flood me. I’ll let my seawall burst.

witch-mark

18 Thursday Jul 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Bluntless succubus. A joyless rolled spliff
between two blue lips. The devil’s nipple,
misfit clit, nuzzles my chin with a whiff
of a witch-mark; which marks where I’ve been, dulls
pillow talk, slows all us down. Going down
on you bigmouth I get my full mouth throttled
to the ground. Shagged but not fagged; a putdown
that can only make sense in past-tense. Fraggled,
as in rock and squirt and splashdown. Your skirt
around your hips, your lips blue and agog
as you gag me. Did I mention that there’s
something in my throat? The pervert’s effort
is worth it. The sky is dull without smog.
Lust is nothing more than nightmares and prayers.

minete and a room full of holes

05 Friday Jul 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, Portuguese, Translation

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Doce a palavra. Minete.
Doce o sal na minha língua.
Desperta, meu sangue.
Negue que me amas três vezes antes do amanhecer.
Perdoai-me porque te desejo tanto.
Doce teu mágica.
Transforme teu esporra em vinho.
Como beato, ajoelho-me entre tuas coxas, irmã.
Minete. Desejo ser bebido.
.
Sweet word. Minete.
Sweet salt on my tongue.
Awake, my blood.
Deny that you love me three times before dawn.
Forgive me because I desire so much.
Your sweet magic.
Turn your cum into wine.
How blessed I kneel between your thighs, sister.
Minete. I wish to be drunk.

X3

X1

Note from author:

There aren’t a whole lot of foreign words in the world for cunnilingus (the English didn’t have one for so long that they had to steal the idea from the French). Minete is one of those words. It’s Portuguese and my dictionary defines it thus:

S.f. (calão) Prática de sexo oral que consiste na estimulação do órgão genital feminino, em especial o clitoris, com a língua ou os lábios. O mesmo que cunnilingus. (Do francês «minet») exemplo de: Afastou-lhe as coxas e começou a fazer-lhe lentamente um minete.

sun birth moon

17 Friday May 2013

Posted by in Armenian, Erotic, Poetry, Portuguese, Translation

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teu orgasmo é
o nascimento da lua pelo sol
nos ares, de repente
o céu está cheio de
placenta
chuva e tua
esporra
.
Your orgasm is
the sun giving birth to the moon
in the air, suddenly
the sky is full of
afterbirth
rain and your
cum
.
Ձեր օրգազմի է
արեւը ծնում լուսնի
ներսում օդում, հանկարծ
երկինքը լի
ընկերք
անձրեւ եւ ձեր
սեմյոն

that kind of fun

13 Monday May 2013

Posted by in Armenian, Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry, Translation

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that kind of fun

Ես թողնում եմ, որ հաճելի է ծննդաբերության ու մայրերին.
Ես լսել նման գեղեցկությունը.
Հուր մաշկի եւ մազերի.
Ա մազոտ բնիկ.
Ուտում եմ ձեր մազոտ բնիկ.
.
I’ll leave that kind of fun to childbirth and mothers.
I’ve heard of such a beauty.
Glow to skin and hair.
A hairy slot.
I’m eating your hairy slot.