Crimson Lover

You are an enigma
I want to unravel you
I want to explore your mysteries
I want to delve into your depths
I want to probe and investigate
Every single part of you
But never find the answer
So I don’t have to give up searching

Luminous lady

It’s clear from your silence
That you are full of screams
You’re an everlasting spark
You’re light detracting my darkness
It’s clear from your smile
That you can swoon any man
You’re my most treasured possession
All you give me is obsession
It’s clear from your love
That you’re a beautiful soul
To my eyes you’re perfect
Smooth brown skin with no acne
I fell for your beauty and brains
You’re my cure, my medication
I no longer suffer from migraines
Enticing you with pure adoration

Effulgent Beauty

I’m afraid to tell you
How I really feel
So I will hide behind timid smiles
And soft “hi”s and , “hello”s
Because I’m afraid if I ask you
“What do you think of me”
You may reply me with
“I don’t”

Our Language

She loved him with a messy heart
He hugged her with fragile bones
She touched him with scarred hands
He kissed her with bruised lips
They whispered all their flaws
Found how contrasting souls they were
Yet so incomplete without each other
Like the day and the night
The sun and the moon
Hearts within a heart
Bones of the same clay

Clark Kent > Superman

I wish women would wish for the real man
I wish you’d imagine a flawed man
I wish you’d imagine a broken man
I wish you’d imagine a man that gets tired
I wish you’d imagine a man that gets scared sometimes
I wish you’d imagine a man that’s worried at times
But he still fights and pushes through all that
He’s still swinging and punching, never backing down
I wish you’d all imagine Clark Kent, not Superman

Shine like the Sun

You are so amazing
And to believe that you must hide
All the parts of you that are broken
Out of fear that someone else
Is incapable of loving you
Because you are not perfect
Is to believe that sunshine is
Incapable of entering a broken window
And illuminate a pitch dark room

I thirst

She didn’t believe in fairytales or romance
Maybe rough sex or horrors
She didn’t believe in love at first sight
But she thrilled at spanking and love bites
She didn’t believe in happily ever after
But she let me spread her cheeks like butter
She didn’t believe in proposals
But she craved for my arousal
She didn’t need me to get her a rose
But in bed she wanted her arse tossed
She yearned for my choking and mighty thrusts
Whenever she caught my glare at her luscious bust
So I let her sit on my handsome face
So she could drip like honey from a titled vase
For it was only for her that I thirst.

Missed Call

Dying is an art
Like everything else
I do it exceptionally well
I do it so it feels like hell
I do it so it feels real
It will take me a lifetime
Yet no time at all
I guess you could say
I do have a call

STUPID ME

I’m judged for writing erotic
But why is that you’re still reading it
So silently from the crevices
While I’m out in the open
Being who I really am

I’m judged for trying to make her smile
For I felt she was secretly upset
But even if she wasn’t
How would it matter?
For all I’m doing is trying
While all you’re saying is “Take Care”

I guess I’m judged for being stupid
Stupid enough to keep trying
For people will always judge you
No matter what you will or won’t do
So judge me more

Please Me

I touched your blouse like it was a page I wanted to turn
I caressed your curves like they were braille in every love letter
I kissed up and down your inner thighs like they were a baby’s cheeks
I wrote poems inside you with my fingers like Ed Sheeran on his guitar strings
I tasted all your innocence like a bee that had just found sweet nectar
I pulled your long hair like the reigns of a horse in a battlefield
I made you arch your back like a bow whose string was pulled
I made you scream like the arrow had stabbed you where it ached
I made love to you and spilled passion across the sheets like ink on paper
You never knew love until my words became a song in your heart
You never understood desire until you felt my rough hands around your throat
Sometimes a poet meets another and a secret poem is hatched
That only a look into your eyes can surely tell