Hungry Eyes

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: General Erotica  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group


Hungry Eyes

It wasn't the flickering of the candlelight,
veiled by the moon, and dripping wax.
What seduced me into your arms of sleep,
in the darkness where the thimbles crept,
across the ribs of my pulsing chest,
like phantoms undressed.

Picking pockets of my poetic tweed,
in the britches of my cock's larder,
of the foreskin, and oozing seed.
Masturbation could not have been harder.
I heard the shouter of the shutter,
a genuflection on your knees.

Perhaps it was the chilling of the bones,
in the darkness where finger crept,
of the catacombs of my mind.
Where my gin taste like dust,
and shadows where the moon settled,
in your raven hair, of butterfly wings.

And on my tongue your nectar dew,
awakening to my needs of love,
where my lust was born.
Into the silence of the thorn,
suffering the ghost as we kiss,
on vines of trumpets, where ivy grows.

Reaching into dreams of nocturnal mist,
of your thighs appetite on strings,
and neither region of your cunt's marionette.
In the darkness where the thimbles crept,
fleshing your hungry eyes,


Submitted: July 03, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Atticus Abbey. All rights reserved.

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