Free verse № 58466
I, Ann Boleyn
You were Henry the eighth,
and I, Ann Boleyn, the radical.
You told me to suck your dick,
I knew I had no choice
but remained vigilant as you placed
one sand-papery callused hand
(and why so callused?)
on the back of my delicate neck
propelling yourself deeper
with each plunge of my rhythm
while I struggled to maintain
my four legged poise
on slippery silken sheets.
I knew you wouldnât do your own bidding
but my neck stiffened warily
as you advanced toward orgasm
driving my head more coarsely
into your musty crotch.
I fought to control the insult of my gag reflex
wishing only to glimpse your eyes and hand
instead of your legsâ bulging varicose veins.
How else to be sure of your temper?
Suddenly,
pulled on top of you
you sluiced in,
startling the wind out of me
with the dazzle of swift penetration.
I looked around, disoriented,
wondering how weâd migrated
from our royal throne of a bed
itâs oaken bedposts ornately carved
with optimistic, profane images
(to aid in the speedy conception of your heir),
to this naked mattress on the floor,
grayed fan oscillating its humid breeze,
curtainless room dusky with streetlight,
your hand, callused from unloading trucks
still clenching my hip
irritable cat eyeing me
as I sighed in dismount.
36 comments
fuck yeh.
with optimistic images of the profane
Hows about- with optimistic profane images
Gray fan oscillating(edit out- at the foot)
You know stuff like that. Nip here nip there. Give it a go. See if you like it more. The last stanza and that switch-a-roo is wonderful writing. You're good.
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Studios/13
(See, walrus8, what good poetry looks like. Take a good long look. And then go and flush your head down a toilet.)
Exquisite 9
they clearly impose limits on the limitlessness of the creator.
Do you feel a resemblance to these characters?
Interesting that the cat played such a significant role in your awakening.
Are you guys enmeshed, or what?
Log in to add a comment.