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Category Archives: Poetry

Thai (Part 1) another poem from the Morena series

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Dinner
Thai Take-Out.
Beverage
Chilled Riesling.
Candles
Vanilla and Jasmine.
Playlist
Sexy Songs.




My first dinner with Franco
at my place
Hesitant to wow him with my cooking
Insistent to fill him with my loving
He loves Thai
Serving a spicy sweet mix tonight
Skin caressed by silky smooth satin
My natural female scent
pheromones in his Thai appetizer
Our meal
Grilled chicken
Pad Thai noodles
Stir-fried mixed vegetables
Dessert
TBD if we get that far
Table set
candlelight waving
as shadows paint the walls.


His ringtone jolts me into anxious excitement
Morena, I’m downstairs, let me in.
Pacing a few times
before pushing the buzzer
Heartbeat quickens
Checking my reflection once more
Before old becomes new
I’m smiling inside
He knocks like taps
I turn the knob
to open my space to him.


Franco, dressed so handsomely
a smiling stance
with flowers in one hand
the other extended
to reach mine
As he enters
he pulls me close
into his gentle kiss
My lips don’t part
taming my tongue
Patience
the night has just begun.


Leading him to the table
Set for two
I put the flowers
in a crystal vase
He watches every move I make
You are beautiful tonight, Morena
More beautiful than my memory of yesterday
I catch his molten smile
soothing like an elixir
warming my stomach inside out


I adorn the empty table
with delectable dishes
and give him the Riesling to open and pour
A toast to us and to tonight
We finally begin dinner
Nourishment a necessity
for what I have planned on Friday’s menu
Every savory bite prolonging
every unspoken emotion
Sensing his wanting
Confirming my own
I change the music
to quiet tones that won’t mask
my own tender moans.

In a Room with Eleven Candles Lit (from the Morena series in progress)

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I lie in a room
with eleven candles lit
eagerly awaiting my masseur
Face-down,
completely naked
shoulders tense
harp tones flowing
subliminally soothing
as lavender and eucalyptus
seduce me into momentary peace.

Gentle knock
previewing
my readiness
inhale
exhale
inhale
don’t let him feel my nerves
just my tension
that is his
to knead
and rub
away.

No verbal introduction
The clicky pump of the bottle
brings essential oils
to my skin
accompanying the melody
of a tactile welcome
from fingers
trained and created
to bring bliss
through pressure.

Hearing his gentle breathing
cloaked in the essence
of lubricated friction,
he masterfully strokes
my stress
Beginning with my shoulders
a deliberate rubbing
in circular motions
across my spine
caressing the small of my back
where his weight
is expertly applied
signaling inner effects
of blood rushing
pulsating
inside my legs.

Smooth hands
paint jasmine oil
down my thighs
Aphrodisiac episodes
and fantasy-laden thoughts
trigger tingling in my feet
they start to shake.

With both hands
warmed by my slippery skin
and his own body heat
he held my feet
as the electric fire in them
shot desire to each
oily fingertip
massaging my toes
one at a time
gently pulling my leg
separating it from contact
with the cloth beneath it
raising just high enough
to expose my wetness
to unexpected oxygen.

My body’s aromatic power
triggered his response
Morena, I love your scent
I have given you essential oils
But I need you
I crave your essence
I want to be inside of your aura.

Franco, you are my masseur
I love you in a room
with 11 candles lit
Come inside me.



Franco’s Private Reading (from the series in progress)

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Pages and pages
Of Morena’s Journal
Inked in her own style
Classy on page 10
Dirty and sexy on page 11
and 12, 13, 14, 
and fifteen.
Sixteen’s steam was contained in her dream
of me feeding her Mama’s spicy rice and beans
Against the kitchen wall grinding her
Orgasms on the floor finding her.
Fingering the page
I remembered touching Morena
The soft edges of her lips
The smooth surface of the paper
Right corner turned up on page twenty-three
A poem about the day she fell in love with me
Finding sex intertwined with erotic poetry.
She captures my every move
In rhythmic meters that blur into shades of blue.
I want to write back to expose my heart
But to put my longing on a page
Would betray the mystical fantasy
residing
Between the binding.
Deep, burning desires she tries to conceal
Making me love her harder than what I reveal
The scent of her lives within
Each entry
Each passage
Each thought lying naked in print.
Could she be the woman I prayed for?
The goddess my heart would stay for?
More valuable than the sight I paid for?
I hesitantly read her confessions on page thirty-six
Her body tingles and cries as she craves my fix
I’m yearning to show her all my tongue tricks.
My mouth waters for a chance to douse her fire
Pleasure’s iniquity is my ultimate desire.
My own aura wafted from page thirty-eight
She needs my arms around her waist
Holding her tight in sexy black lace
Smelling our sex all over my face
A swatch of panties she wore hold this page in place
I could barely breathe by page forty-one
Consumed in her essence before love had begun
Morena, don’t make love to the pages anymore…
Let me love you until your poetry becomes jealous
Leave your writing for afterplay
I give you the role you want in foreplay
Metaphors can’t make you the woman you deserve to be
Morena, I acknowledge your worth
To my inspiration you give birth
We are poetry personifying sex
You are my significance
My magnificence
Let me fill you
You moan and whisper that you are scared
Losing me in the sound of your voice
The rhythm of your ride
I feel new
Deep inside you
Contractions gripping my pulsation
I love you
True sensations
I bite your tongue to hold you closer
You can’t let go
I love you
I can’t release you
You gasp as you ride me
With each breath
And each heartbeat
You love me
You can’t release me
My pulse quickens
Your walls thicken
To swallow my essence
I have been consumed by your ecstasy
Until tomorrow,
Your journal is closed
to conceal the wet fingerprints
I intentionally left
on the last page.

Morena’s Reflections (a sample from a series in progress)

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Morena’s Reflections

My Franco is my love

I miss him before he leaves

Miss him when he enters my presence

Regretting that eventually he will depart again

Kissing him, loving him, smelling him

Creating a permanent heart recording

Reserved in my playlist

For the times when he is gone

A love like this can’t be repeated

Can’t be imitated.

Love was born when we first embraced

The first kiss, no holding back

He took me like he wanted me

Touched me

Listened to me

Cared about what mattered to me

He was all about me.

I knew he was falling

But did he know I fell before the second kiss?

His electricity fired my nerves

Giving me the courage to give in to the fall

To go down with my eyes closed

But seeing everything crystal clear

Everything real

And true

And new.

He held me close

And embraced all that was uniquely me

The little things I so easily dismiss

My nose

My eyelashes

The small curve of my lower back

And the alluring expanse of my hips.

My femininity fed his masculinity

His scent catered to my instincts

As we envisioned a night spent

Showing each other in timeless verbs

The explicit meaning

Of every unspoken word.

The Worst Thing?

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Father Boyle, Founder of HomeBoy Industries said,
“All of us are a whole lot more than the worst thing we ever did.”

The worst thing I did was steal some chapstick when I was ten
I vowed never ever to do that again
The worst thing I did was cheat on a test when I was eleven
I worried that cheaters didn’t get admission to Heaven
The worst thing I did was lie when I was fourteen
Liars are never happy making me feel like a fiend

If I am more than the worst thing I ever did
then I am more than a thief
I am more than a cheater
I am more than a liar
who feels like a fiend

If I am more than my past mistakes
there is no reason to lose sleep and worry as I wake

The Many Ways He Wants Me

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He wants to be my underwear
So he can feel me down there
He yearns to know how soft my skin is
How smooth my ass is
He craves to be betwixt 
His lips on mine, kiss for kiss



He wants to be my finger
Where my pleasuring scents linger
Seeking fluency in my body’s unspoken verse
Feeling my beats
Pleasing me first
He wishes to make my love button hot
Bringing verbal vibrations to my G-Spot


He wants to spend the night between my thighs
Where being wet is better at sunrise
And my hot creamy sweetness
Cures his coffee-Jones-kind-of-weakness
He just wants to be inside my heat
There’s only so much cookie he can eat


He wants to make my body his four-course meal
Begs me to savor every bite that I feel
He prepares dessert with my chocolate nipples
We both come twice before the triples
I am his delectable erotic dish
Deep and true intense loving, 
Not some freaky fetish.

Loving You

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In passion my boundaries become like butter
Brilliant words scrambled like nonsense I utter
Time stands still when our paths turn
night dreams sizzle in midday sunburn
I hear your laughter in the silence of morning
Hitting me like thunder without a raindrop’s warning
Had no idea you would love me so right
Sweeter than a kiss in morning light.
 
You are truer than my favorite shade of blue
Loving you equals my one plus one too
If loving you is wrong
Let’s make it last and make it strong
Feeling the power of your embrace
remembering how tenderly you caress my face.
 
Saying the same thing at the same time
Passion married to happiness in a single rhyme
You are rainbows after morning showers
I am roses blooming under nature’s powers
You sing the melody in my song
I show you right when you try to be wrong.
 
You are the poet behind my inspiration
I am your poem’s private dedication
We complement each other like sun and sky
Love comes naturally to silence the cry
No more tears darkening my eyes
Your affection gives me brand new highs
I love you this morning and this afternoon
I love you in the peace of our full moon.