desire (Remove filter)
Burnt
When you lit that cigarette
The bones of me shuddered,
The blood in me halted.
What I wouldn’t do for you to light my flame with your lips....
Because I’ve had men tell me that my lipstick tastes of petrol,
That my mouth lights fires,
That my tongue causes explosions
And of course, that opening my legs is the best way to put a fire out.
But this fire begins at you...
Sunday 28th February 2016 4:50 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
13 minutes ago
Ben John on Buy weed and coke in London Telegram: @Bruce_55shop3 +44 7918 682218
25 minutes ago
Ben John on Buy weed and coke in Berlin Telegram: @Bruce_55shop3
26 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Where is THIS Jerusalem?
40 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A Cut Above
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 31. Brussels Boycott]
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Civilities
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Stats (To be continued)
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
4 hours ago
Rolph David on The Anchorage Gambit – Reflexive Control
4 hours ago