Poetry- Rippling waves of heat rise, shimmering,
across the torso’s atmosphere,
taking my tripping sweet heart by the hand,
and pulling him, wide-eyed, excited — spun
faster and faster — breath snags, catches, gets a bit ragged,
dawning joy pumps the bellows with vigor.
You (w)hol(l)y fill my eyes,
O Shakti, burning.
Yours are the feet that I want to adore;
long curving toes to suck, worship and lick.
Jewel them with toe-rings and sparkle your nails,
lines drawn in henna to deify them.
Boldly tattoo sacred canvas with bright
images, sacrosanct geometries.
Bless me with, grant me your taste and sweet scent.
Fit every last morsel into my mouth.
Down my ribs
Past my bellybutton’s crater
To the crease of my hip
And let me soak up all of your
I feel you
I smell you
And your essence beckons me.
Let me drink this moment in
Pinned beneath your
As the pleasure you offer
Warms all my
Breathe with me
And let’s keep exploring
The waves of pleasure
That offer our spirits soaring.
– Inara Grace