Petits XVII

A sweet sensuous secret

Plays upon my lips

How I delight in holding it close to me

Softly whispering

in between your sweet kisses

That I’ll never tell


The promise of pleasure

Conjures up piqued fantasies

That ever will pale

In comparison to what will come

And yet we wait with bated breath

For what will be


I feel your soft breath

A gasp escapes

Errantly revealing

The desire i hold within

Afraid to let it be yours



Dear one,

i forgo so much

to please you

but resentment grows

like a stubborn

unwieldy weed


each word you utter in just jest

and all that i must not take so seriously

they solemnly gather

in dark slashing lines

surrounding me

their meanings rise

like too long stifled truth

each begs for due consideration

for its time in allotted worry…


but there is only so much i can do

before i break

and escape this

soft and cunning


of promises and pleas.


What would it be like? i ask
and you are bemused.

pity pools in your eyes
escaping before
a knowing smile tugs into a smirk.

how will you ever know?
say your lips
politely pursed shut.

will you ever know?
instinctively your head
shakes no, no.



a hand rubbed face


an imperceptible nod

encourages instead.