Erotic poetry is necessary in an artistic society because of the gritty cleansing it provides to every human who's ever entertained such ideas or participated in postures of passion with another human. We don't talk about sex enough on any level, but it continues to be a serial culprit of heartache, mental illness, and broken homes. It is the vandal across divorce documents and the subliminal motive behind even a PLUMR commercial for cleaning pipes. Sex is nasty and its lovely. It’s sinful and its purifying. Sex has been lied about enough to be told the truth about now. Yes...even now. In some enlightening fantastic poetic expression. Fantastic, meaning fantasy. This piece will be beautiful to read and lovely to imagine. It is erotic, and it is allowed. I recommend everyone to read and comment and write your own fantasy. So that when you’re asked, you will know precisely how you want it to go down.
I decided not to open my eyes to decipher where on this world of mine I had landed.
Naked.
I landed naked and there was a constant breathing breeze fluttering over my body like a protective dove.
From nose tip to toe tip I was cooled and breathing with the breeze
In and out of my relaxed mouth with ease
I hear the trees.
Wishing and Whooshing.
Wishing and wooing me back to sleep. But I’m up.
All of my senses are tingling with anticipation.
Waiting for you my, Debonair Dingo, to happen upon my luscious carcass
Tragedy has struck this mistress in the calmest darkness of morning.
I am docile and I look delicious, my supple bones have collapsed at last
And I am playing dead.
My panting has subsided and I hold my breath
As your mouth of drooling hovering fog observes me.
Your hot puffing is touching the body parts that you desire to devour first.
Your tongue attempts to lap up the silky milk dripping from the islands atop my gelatin breasts.
You push the fatty side and the areola island shifts a little and settles. As you lick me.
The there is a beautiful gap in the small of my back where my spine curves in before meeting my crack
My ass is on the grass.
Green, shining and bending for my bends and my dips and my bends
And curves. I never mind a finger swirl in a curl around my girl-ish figure.
Mamma earth’s dirty scalp is cold and moist under the follicles of the ripe yard
The harmless blades stick to my thigh to come along for the dream ride I have been on.
All night long
My eyes are closed as you draw nearer to the tender center of my red pink brown wet chakra
As you salivate my clit peeks up and out and stiff because she recognizes your desire.
Kisses you give her stiff kisses as she seeks your approval
You politely introduce you tongue.
Offering small talk around my labia
Ooh my knees are heaven bent and your gift is heaven sent and you
Let me hear you
Sing her
Praises
Making out with your face now
Drenched in her goodness greatness
Making faces as you
Dig a little deeper.
Sucking tender tight flesh as you eat her alive.
In the morning part of the night.
Crickets chirping telling on our ritual
Your labia linguistics have become a ritual
So Spiritual the mental conversation exchanging when you are
Giving me your head.
Lying dead to the world
Deaf to the seashell swirl of mother of pearl
Dripping, seeping out of my squirting ocean
Drag it across my leg like lotion
Making me like me
The most when I just lay there
With my back bare
Eyes wide open fluttering way back there.
Copywritten work by Hotep the Artist
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