Janeen G.
Janeen G.
Jun 28 · 1 min read

My hips moved of their own accord;
I had no sense of what to do or how to feel.

Your hands held my hips as I began to ride my own high.
I couldn’t hear my own moans,
just my heart thundering in my ears and your hard grunts.
It was soothing and poetic.

Now I’m nearing my end,
feeling myself hanging over a cliff.
I’m ready to jump,
ready to go through that blissful high.

It hits me; it hits me hard.

My walls start to crash down,
desperate for you to come with me.
I feel what you’ve been saving for me.
I feel you spill deep inside me.

I crash drunken lips to yours,
and you whisper my name into my lips.
It was the last thing I heard
before my vision became unfocused,

I was met with blackness…

Poetry Under Cover

continuing the work of Poetry After Dark - a home for your deepest loves and hottest passions - come join us

Janeen G.

Written by

Janeen G.

blogger/author/writer/artist/doll hair stylist/mother/wife & true fandom nerd.https://myyoungworldblog.wordpress.com/

Poetry Under Cover

continuing the work of Poetry After Dark - a home for your deepest loves and hottest passions - come join us

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