I want to nibble on your cookies
find cookie crumbs down your bra
pop cookie pieces in your mouth
like cookie shooting stars
I want to sprinkle cookie love
and taste your cookie kisses
you are my sexy chocolate chip
my naughty cookie mistress
xx
find my other crumby poem here:
https://slideaways.wordpress.com/2017/09/20/the-red-lamp/
we are behind the screen hiding
and your lips are very wet
and when we kissed I drowned
and my lungs filled with your fluid
we were lipids confused together
chemically ambient
up to our necks in duplicity
fondling the fibres of each other’s
upholstered limbs
sweetie rappers on fairy dust
snorting sexual desires up inside
four pupils and nostrils flared
ahhhhhh!! the expectation
the kiss of your blissfulness
the wet of your lipstick drool
your nipples are for suckling pigs
your crackling for carnivores
and yes
there were times when it almost happened
out beyond the blue that filled your canvas
or the hallowed shapes that haunted your studio
lines permanently crosshatched
perfunctorily placed with deft indecision
spit spat and splattered upon
those wet licks that ran down the fusions
of my spine and emptied me whole
in a quivering
in a maelstrom
Greenshank Warhol Monika
the hex filled monk
and HIV Cruickshank
owner of the Hawaiian ski chateau
met Moira Edo with her
Goodnight Knights featuring
PJ Plunge the rethinker
looking everso F-stop Kuhn bold
on the road to K.D’s Lounge
There’s this geek up on Outgrew Creek
said Greenshank Warhol Monika
The police jugfested him today / okay
tried to thread poor Jerry Potter’s hooker
He’s Ethiopian / the type you weigh and rip
as if it were Hollywood or Vlad / or
Dustin Hoffman in the Grad / or Greek
Ought we to trip? spoke Moira underbreath
if we’d to loop old Polovitch? sonofabitch
For Iris Offshoot the workweek endeth
She took u and ur and rested upendeth
The Goodnight Knights took hydraulics
said it gave them a lift / made them suspended
but no one knew except PJ Plunge
the rethinker and Master Conjurer
knifing / oiling / decking / lining
Life’s death rhythm abuser
The arch ingress Welch Kruger
Yes her that married HIV Cruickshank
the owner of the Hawaiian ski chateau
The nights they spent ethylene wishing
justifying lifts and hailing storm clouds
earth rich / restful / potted
uninjured like chilly myths sought
outweighed / omitted / outgrowing
The Knights were outriding
servo judging Keith’s jitters
Hush Hush Khufu
your gifts occur plighted
rock harshened / injured / interned / jilted
Leah turns to Greenshank Monika
sheds tear upon tear upon tear upon
the footstep door of K.D’s Lounge
an open door to Golden Operatunities
but only kisses fled her billed cheek
tongued entwined with reminiscences
It was time to place the full stop .
She is nearing the point of no return str/oke no going back
her plumpish puppy flesh is tanned and sooo delectable
bikini breasts firming up to the fondled imagination
red oversized Lolita shades hiding those furtive eyes
She is extra virgin olive skin oiled with wandering hands
growing up fast ‘n’ waiting for her fumbled few moments
what’s it gonna be like? she asks herself daily, hourly
whilst pouting and picking over her shy little sister’s words
She is Ma and Pa’s protectively bookended boredom lives
they keep her social media contacts under full surveillance
staking out and spot checking suitors for suitable potentiality
they worry for the sake of worrying which only brings more worry
She is practising her kissing in front of every reflective surface
but don’t worry girl, you know you are a pretty young thing
and the boys all want to love you now before it gets too late
have you however whilst you’re young and fresh to taste
She is just not fucking gonna be like her parents that’s all
with their cellulite thighs and saggy loosened skins but oh,
the ghastly inevitability that she will one day resemble them
it butchers her body and numbs her febrile innocent mind
His lips meet the sweaty curves of her belly
His tongue licks her salty perspiration tears
His hands remove the skimpy excuses for modesty
His hardness scares the light from her skies
And somewhere,
gasping,
a forest fire
burns out of control
(Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt: Water)
Hey xx While you’re here why not take a peek at my Home Page and read some more of my work – it’s free !! Oh go on 🙂
