Lived-In Skin

Breasts sucked dry by your
babies, stomach stretched by
harbouring them so long, skin
creased and mottled by
motherhood: what is there
not to love in the
lived-in skin of a
woman?

Photo with the kind permission of the wonderful LSB @https://littleswitchbitch.com/
These are my words and have nothing to do with her.

Pallor

You are taut and

pallid so the

black suits you and

my pleasure will be to

caress whatever weals

tautness leaves back to

pallor.

With thanks to @itsmsstone on Tumblr for her inspiration and the wonderful image.

Sweet Sharpness

Her demanding hand
kept my face
true to her sex and
her strong thighs
clamped about my ears
deafened me to her cries
but my finger slyly
insinuated into her arse
kept her honest and
let me breathe again and
savour the sweet
sharpness of womanhood.

Gauze

My love, we all grow old, but

I see you through the

gauze of memory, always that

beautiful girl I

dared to kiss.

But nowadays

would I have dared?

 

(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

On Reflection

On reflection, I know you
knew I watched you dress,
imagining the soft
hush of stocking up leg, you
fussing unnecessarily to allow your
breasts to sway that
little bit longer before the
dress like a white waterfall, the
sudden height of heels, a
flick of your hair, the
distant slam of a door.

On reflection, I noted the
lack of other underwear,
wondered who you might meet,
whether you might be
smiling when, tomorrow, you
draw your curtains.

(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

Nails

I admire my lady’s

latest manicure

adore the colour and

shapeliness whilst being

fully alive to the

weals those nails

will leave on my back

when she repays my

admiration with

passion.

 

(For the consent for the lovely image of @Lelasdesires on Tumblr, I thank her, and it has nothing to do with her or her life but is merely my imagination.)

Red

She saw red behind her
eyelids as she
shuddered, her synapses
sparking wildly as
images of all her
lost friends slid by,
judged by geeks or worse by
some abstract algorithm
determining whether she might be
human after all.

With the wonderful image of espera1609, whose tumblr might well be lost forever after this month, amidst the ongoing infantilisation of the internet. Don't you think we should all protest the loss of adult spaces? Or do we love kittens and puppies too much?