The chin-shoulder concatenation
Let me nose-kiss your earlobe
I fit in your arms like a Lego
But I'm ruining this perfect moment
Because writing is in order
The world needs to know about
The warmth and my moisture and the softness
Of your caramel skin
The hardness of your center
Wafts of cold air seep under the covers
They get lost in a labyrinth of legs and collarbones
Until they too become heat and want
...
Let's mélange again our scrumptious junctions,
As going to work now feels barbaric.
© Lola Sense 2021
...
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Lola Sense
Poet and writer of steamy stories. If my work tickles you the right way and you want to support me, feel free to buy me a coffee to keep the sexy stories coming!
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Loved this! It had such a lovely flow to it. And you do an amazing job creating such imagery with your words. You paint an extraordinary picture!