POETRY - EROTIC: No Multicolored Crepe-Paper Streamers Fluttering Below Air-Conditioner Vents

No Multicolored Crepe-Paper Streamers Fluttering Below Air-Conditioner Vents

©Mona Arizona, March 2014

All Rights Reserved

  

You like me for my pole dances

And the way I fit on your lap...

The way you brush against my peaks.

Well, I sleep beneath trees, don't I?

Our day fumbles toward darkness.

Glamorously amorous, we

Don't wait for the long exposure

That will become an erotic

blur of wrestlers on ruffled sheets.

You're Eros fingering the rose,

A god with wild netherworld lust

That stirs a fire in the wetness.

I'm a temple of love waiting

For you, my octopus lover,

Wanting you to go down like the

God Cupid when he took Leda.

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