2. if now

·····now i
want to write a poem
about love–
my window says
the snow
·····on evergreens
my door says
there must be some mistake—
and i
cannot compare
the gray
·····to you and not the black trees
to anything
the softly,
··········red up–
of your nipples so following my fingers
·····this morning—
the purple
·····of you
·····you dye me with and –you – i want already
········again– and
tumblr_n0p6biMMU51qfbon7o1_1280the stain
of tasting you between my lips
much color
·····that a woman
and i
··········to be



February 23 2014 • by William Crimson

Categories: Erotica, Poetry, RedBudTags: , , ,


  1. vanillamom

    love the way your words pulled me through the window, pausing at the door, and looking into that room (again) and seeing the lovers entwined.

    lovely prose. Your playing with words always offers me erotic insight, laid down exquisitely, gently, like a trail of falling snowflakes, ethereal, yet substantive. . I must go back and let my eyes slip down along the fall of them again. And again.


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