Writing

Sort of.😆

Writing is like jizzing;
When it comes it
Explodes uncontrollably
Torrential gushes of glory
Till orgasmic waves subside
With the last drop of poetry.

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Daily Prompt: Partner

A partner, like the word suggests
Should be someone on our side
Through our worst and our best;
In the former, stay them by our side
In the latter, with us celebrate delight
I may not make a cut above the rest
But I promise that I would do my best.

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Daily Prompt: Lust

I want you to pull me into you
Urgently, your lips crashing against
Mine, fevered and desirous
They part to let you in –
Hot and wet, alive and furious
My senses mingle with the
Scent of you, primal and predatory
I want to be your prey.

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Never Goodbye

Like any afternoon we would meet, I was in his room. He was draped in his chair across from me, a relaxed look on his face as I twirled a pen between my fingers.

“So… what was your very first impression of me?”

“Well… I thought you were so proper and good.”

“Really? Wow.”

He smiled, a little smug. I smiled back, then continued.

“But when I got to know you better, it all changed…”

My turn to grin as he looked slightly annoyed.

“…I found that you had your own wacky perspective of looking at things, were witty and best of all, you could catch my puns. I love that. I like when someone can go deep with me.”

Looking visibly pleased, he grinned back as me. Then, a thought crossed his mind.

“Remember when you got angry and almost walked out on me? I was so worried you would.”

“Ah yeah…” I furrowed my brows as I remembered. “…but you know I’d never do that.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

I took a breath.

“Out of all of them, you are the best.”

He looked at me, the slightest hint of sadness in his eyes.

“I guess this is the last time we’re gonna be here like this.”

“Yeah well… you gotta go.”

I felt a twinge in my heart.

“But hey, this is never really goodbye. I can always go meet you there, get a coffee or something. And there’s always Skype.”

He brightened up a little.

“Yeah, I guess that’s another way to look at it.”

I gave him a wink.

“So I’ll see you again.”

“Yeah, we’ll do just that.”

I had to smile. “Soon.”

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Ethereal

Aurora-like skies
Ethereal the sunset flight
On Pegasus’ wings.

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Wine & Friendship

A friendly poetry challenge
Appeared with a similar theme
So here’s the previous post
Re-formed in poetry. 🙂

He was seated at the table
Glass of wine in his hand
Sultry was the afternoon
Some summer breezes fan

The town bustle and chatter
Filled the air in his wait
Till he looked up as he heard
Her voice – “Sorry I’m late!”

He set his glass down, as she
Arrived at his table
A smile on his lips
“I’m glad you were able.”

“Well I kept my promise
To meet you today.”
He took a sip from his glass
His eyes not leaving her face

She reached for her own
Lips curled in a wicked smile
“Amici e vino sono meglio vecchi.”
Made him guffaw a while

“Are you saying that I’m old?”
He winked and took a sip
“I’m saying we get better with age
Like fine wine and friendship.”

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La Più Alta Poesia

There he was at the table, seated in a cane chair and casual grey pants, shirt casually unbuttoned and a glass of wine in his hand. Sultry was the afternoon except for an occasional summer breeze – a welcoming reprieve. As the town bustle and chatter filled the air, he turned his wrist and glanced down from behind his shades.

“Sorry I’m late!”

He looked up to see her walking briskly towards him, a smile on her face. He set his glass down, and as she arrived at his table, got up and removed his shades, a smile on his lips.

“Yes, you are.”

She grinned as they both settled into their seats and the waiter came with a menu.

“I’ll have what he’s having, thanks.”

He looked at her half-amusedly as she gave a little sigh and eased into her chair, putting her hair to one side as she did. Then, she turned to him with a twinkle in her eye.

“Well I kept my promise. Happy birthday!”

“Haha, yes you did.”

He took a sip from his glass, his eyes not leaving her face. She reached for her glass with a wicked smile.

“Amici e vino sono meglio vecchi.”

“Ha! Are you saying I’m old?”

“I’m saying we get better with age.”

“Indeed. Speaking of which…”

He caught the scent of her perfume as he leaned towards her. She watched him as he did, until he was just a breath away.

“…I’m better at writing now.”

“Are you.”

In that moment, a breath of wine, his fingers on her chin; a flick of her eyes, then the taste of his lips.

Il bacio è la più alta poesia dell’amore.

The greatest poem indeed.

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