Reading Your Love Poems
how i wish i could have
written much better about my
last nights with her
her 30 styles of moaning
a la
script of the vaginal monologues
her way of conquering
my territory and putting
her mark of flag
somewhere behind my back
as i bite my lips
because of a blending
of both pain
and pleasure and some others
which words
evidently fail in representing
what ecstasy was there
on those last five nights
moonstruck about everything
that was both hot and wet
i bowed and stared
at the center of my
being
the sun turned off
the moon disappearing
breathed snoring
in tiring perfection
love too elusive
to the hands of words.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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