I Am Always Happy To Find My Old Poems From My Banned Origional Site. This Is One.

Deeper

Do not get me wrong.  I think you are beautiful.  I adore each curve,  the rise of your breasts,  Your hair, full, dark and wild.  The full, pink pucker of your lips,  the laughter and fear in your eyes.  You know this.  How many times have you caught me,  gazing, my eyes flowing like fiery silk on your every line,  hands caressing you  like the miracle you are?  But your beauty runs deeper,  fed by passion, the need to please,  all the way to helplessness,  and into the dark spaces we both crave. 

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This is one of the poems from my banished "The Other Poems" blog. I am always glad when I stumble on one, or find one on someone else's tumblr.

Every time you share a poem, you help me find one of the banned poems, and help me connect with lost connections because of the purge here.

I love it when I find a poem from my deleted blog that I can repost to my new on. In this case the poem found me. A Reader from London refound me and shared two. Thank you!

Just As...

And just as you think you have found every possible way to submit... I prove you wrong.

Suddenly Safe

And then, you suddenly realize the fantasy is about to come real. Me standing, directing the pleasure of everyone involved in a way you never believed happens. Certainly not to you. A smile on my face, half wicked, half so full of love you ache for it, feeling suddenly safe in this strange place you find yourself.

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Fill in your fantasy. With the right person, they can happen. But for Gods sake, make sure it is the right person who will both push you and protect you, and love you even more after it is done.

Incredibly thought-provoking, viscerally intense! Appreciate you for your expressions 🙏🎈

Thank you!

From behind

It was the first time we met.

You were only a few steps ahead of me

When I caught you in your lie.

“I used to be a dancer.” you had told me.

“But that was a long time ago.”

Oh no, I thought as I watched the sway of your hips,

The perfect, provocative movement,

Not meant for show, but recognized,

Appreciated. Wanted. Oh yes, wanted

More than you knew then, and more,

Much more now that I have seen how you dance

On the edge of orgasm. You are a dancer still,

And always will be. You can’t help it,

Just as I can’t help thinking, even apart,

How many ways I want your and your dancer’s ass.

It never ends.

One of my poems from my deleted blog, found on someone else’s blog.

Wait. Watch.

Lay there.  Wait.  Watch  as I lay things out.  Flogger. Crop. Plug. More.  As I anticipate which pain, and where I will punish you with tonight.  As I anticipate what tender places I will penetrate, with what and how long,  and how hard.  Watch. See my smile.  See my shaft rise,  hard as stone.  Know,  you are mine,  helpless before my desire. 

Creation

You could easily believe you made her up

She is that perfect.

A perfection beyond skin and curve and smile

even when you own her, maybe

particularly then. So perfect

that had you not held her

flesh and her heart in your hands,

you would not believe she was real.

You could not have,

even in your dreams, vivid as they are,

created her or the love

her body emanates in every image,

memory and hope.

What Only I Hear

Cry out. Shout. Gasp. Writhe.

Here you are mine and no one will hear your fear, your surprise or your surrender. You are mine. Now and forever.

A Particular Love

I have a particular love

Of desecrating the innocent,

Particularly

Those who do not think they are.

I love when one of my poems from my deleted blog finds me.

A Reminder

Legs high. Taken deep. A second time in as many hours. A reminder. There is no end to my need. And evidently, yours either.