Infatuation


I never have fancied myself as the “love poem” type of poet
Rather’d I be more caught up in passionate feelings surrounding
Political revolutions
Welfare systems
And
Hot, grimy, funky sex
The kind that instantly brings memories of wet bed sheets
Probably ain’t have no business doing it in the first place
But it sho feel good
And you sho smell good
And I sho can’t keep my fingers off of
You
See I ain’t never been the love poem type of girl
But I sho can love you good
And long
And hard
Like penetration though I’m trying to take it slow
Like licking watermelon juice off the bottom of your chin
Hickies beneath your blouse
Scratches across your back
Dirty like we ain’t showered but it’s still good
See love poems require time and thought
But when I think of you I am able to close my eyes and write from memory
Can feel your nakedness gripped tightly between my fingers
The smell of my face buried inside of you
The taste of
No, there is nothing about you that requires thinking because things happen naturally
But I do desire to write a love poem one day
Before the love is gone and I’m only left with remnants of what we shared
But here and now
The faint rise of your nipples against your blouse has caught my attention and I’d much rather live in the moment

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2 thoughts on “Infatuation

  1. (clearing my throat)…Lol.

    Umm…THIS is certainly one H*ll of a “love poem” you’ve written, Nykieria…lol

    BRAVO!!!…and Well.Done..

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