Litkicks Message Board Archive

morning can be made

Posted to Action Poetry




when music comes to me
from the breathing of your lungs
these thighs
they quiver
waiting for your turn into lust.
you awakening in the quiet morning
with the lick
on your lips
like a dragonfly
upon the leaf of autumn
turning red from desire to change.
i touch you.
(touch)
and you begin to rise
to groan toward my skin
and i'm sliding down my underwear
shimmying,
doing a dance on my back
as my t-shirt stretches over my head.
i touch you.
(touch)
and you begin to kiss my lips,
moving your hands on my breasts
feeling my want for you grow
in smooth yet hard places.
your lips travelling along my lips
sliding against my mouth of tainted words
which decorate you
while your need for me gets stronger.
i am open to you
under this bedsheet
under this warm incubating covering.
i touch you.
(touch)
and you whisper things to me
bringing wetness to the skin
between my legs
and you grind over the top of me,
moving into me--
inside of me--
making love to me
and showing me
how morning can be made.