Thief of Breath
March 11, 2011
An entry for #fuckmefriday, Aisling Weaver‘s weekly smut call. Go to her page for the full list of participants. -M
Katarzyna Dembrowska
You stole it when I had my guard down.
When I thought I finally possessed you.
You yielded, pliant under me.
No more squirming, struggling, hesitation.
Burying myself in your submission.
Eyes staring into your surrender.
Deceiver.
Heads close as I pressed myself deep into you.
To leave my mark of ownership.
Smiling in pleasure and triumph.
Letting the feeling of having wash over me.
Fool.
Exhaling onto you as it came.
You filled your lungs with it.
I saw you;
spark in eye,
quirk in grimacing lip.
You stole my breath,
just before you cried out.
Thief.
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Monocle, hot poem, I hope that the sex was longer. :D
As ever, beautifully written.
I like what you’ve been doing with format and rhythm lately.
Those words — deceiver, fool, and thief — are far more powerful when alone, and it also gives the reader time to fully absorb what they’ve read before starting the next stanza.
Thank you. I really don’t know what to call these things. They’re not poems, but they have meter. They’re not stories, really, though they have a story.
I am enjoying erotic poetry more and more every day. Just so very beautiful.
Fantastically done, Raz. Love this. I always enjoy it when you veer from your customary style to visit another. Thank you for participating in my #fuckmefriday challenge, hope to see you next week! ;)
~AW
Beautiful poem and image. I have to echo Ximena’s comment about the single word between stanzas–it adds a powerful pacing and beauty to the poem.