Tag: sexy poetry

Trust

They see a collar in your hand,
but it is a heart.
in your loving, firm embrace.
beating, bleeding, pumping for you.
a slave to a space only subs can know,

Glorious restraints,
freedom in the form of a rope…
See.
Breathe.
Love, like it’s the first time.
Creations and reactions
always at the ready with the flick of a wrist.
I bow to you, kneel for you, lick for you, cry for you.

Make no mistake,
you are mine
as much as you know I am yours
perfect unison
powers unbeknownst to the worldly creatures,
never capable of finding the shadows.

© 2018 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Soccer dad

Eyes meet.

Bathroom door.

Pants down.

Pounding in progress.

Release.

Sigh.

Pants up.

Door opens.

Breakfast sausages.

Saturday.

Slut.

© 2018 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Mistress Magic

I see you
I love you
I feel you
I breathe you.

You are mine
You are hers
You are the world’s
You are beautiful.

I know you
I crave you
I desire you
I devour you.

Two halves to your whole,
We hold you close.
Heart safe and warm,
Between the sheets of passion and love.

Sleep sound darling,
Sweet Repose.
Always beside you,
When I’m nowhere near.

© 2018 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Weight

On supported grounds we lose our footing
angling and dangling towards the unknown
waters below blue and black
like bruises we can’t quite place.
Temptations to hold hands,
reassuringly embrace; pull her back to safety
resistance of time, and love.
There is no momentum when gears stick
just a simple necessity of lubrication
risk, develop, shine.
Properly oiled machines
weight of the world on our shoulders.
Mechanical creatures,
powerful feats of engineering,
no longer Puppets, always Puppeteers.
Dance, cry, love, fuck
never devoid of choice.
Elements in our grasp forming a whole
living, breathing, dying.
Bearings.
Find, Use
or Fall.

© 2018 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Dreams

Occasionally when floating on my boat of dreams,
I become aware of the nebulous sea of regret rippling under my vessel.
Am I living in a constant state of denial,
or simply appreciative of better times?

Occasionally my smile crisps itself into a stone line,
and my thoughts race back to another side of my mortal reality.
Am I just another memory to one of my memories,
or am I flesh and bone that can be touched?

Occasionally I hear the pitter patter of rooftop rain
and it brings me back to a long ago place I once knew.
Am I sure the sensory appreciation is real,
or am I simply a projection of a non-existent former self?

Occasionally I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders,
and it seeps down into my hidden soul.
Am I truly awake and aware of my existence,
or am I merely dreaming…

© 2015 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Small Truths

Gentle words
hard touch
pull me closer,
hold me down

My neck at your mercy
diligently breaking
to rebuild ourselves anew
primal needs met
with moans and bruises.

Spread, lick, fuck
enter, exit, fill
understand.

Beautiful love, sweet caresses
gracious deliverance
abandonment in lust,
true natures present

Through growing pains
fulfilment

© 2018 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved