Today, on Twitter I said out loud that I don’t dabble in Erotica.
Usually, mine comes out mushy and lovey-dovey or dark and sinister and not… Well… Erotic…
Whilst lying in my bed with my eyes wide open I got the vision of this poem called I Want You to Consume Me.
Quite erotic in its’ nature, by all means, but
Desire is a wicked thing and I over-romanticize everything,
This is the reason why I can’t write erotica
My poetry has feelings
Here it is “Desire”, a human emotion, I like emotions.
I Want You to Consume Me
Mingle with me to the point that our fingertips
They melt into each other…
Consume me as if I was the promised savior
And there is no way of telling when one’s lips end
And another’s start
I want you to consume the rage in my veins
And be drunk on the skin of a girl that fires poetry
As if it was a gun
And in return
I will consume you
To the point that I too
Will know God
When your name
Escapes my lips
I am always willing to hear criticism or thoughts on my poems, I might seem like I will run away crying. But sometimes other people see things, that I don’t.
So comment away or send me a letter through my ask/tell page.
