Mimi-Mona Poetry: Favorite Parts

©Favorite Parts

Mimi Wolske

Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™

All Rights Reserved

Won't you tell me your favorite parts of me?

What are the parts you want to keep?

If you're afraid, then I'll give you mine—

It's your eyes that look at me with love,

Your heart that's fearless as those

Alberta winds in the winter time,

Your silver hair that's always in place,

Your comfy pants that have seen better days,

Your crooked smile like a happy wolf,

That look you get that tells me, yes it says

That you're up to no good at all,

And those ornamental parts of love.

Well, you know in a better light

Everything changes so that  

I will want every part of you...

So you will want every part of me, too.

Let's close the door on good intentions;

We can't be bothered with mistakes made while

Waiting for these things we share to grow,

These feelings written in our blood,

These feelings that touch us to our bones.

Let's turn off the lights and shut the door;

We already have everything we're going to need.

Won't you hold me in your arms and tell me a story,

Or, won't you tell me your favorite parts of me?

Paintings by Hamish Blakely 

Mimi-Mona Erotic Humorous Poetry: Seeing Blue

©Seeing Blue

Mona Arizona

Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™

All Rights Reserved

Morning comes and so I rise

(remember last night),

he didn't, no big surprise.

Have to give the man credit;

he tried very hard—

well, he was affectionate.

Promised me lifetime thrusts;

now he's seeking more

pharmacologists.

I questioned, can this happen?

Has my beauty warped?

Faded? Oh! Where is my talisman?

After our years together,

is he finding me

disappointing? Can I ever be sure?

Gaze at his side of the bed

sighing with relief;

good, he's still here; he isn't dead;

our arrangement's still the same.

Nothing ever changes.

Fate still plays her soft wood game.

Must refill his prescriptions;

he's not getting off.

Tonight he'll give me both guns,

or I'll get my money back.

No sexual bans;

he'll be my sex maniac.

Mimi-Mona Erotic Poetry: Matinee Love Sessions

©Matinee Love Sessions

Mona Arizona

Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™

All Rights Reserved

People tell me it's you who makes me wanna do

all those things I shouldn't, but when you're thirteen

hundred miles away, we need our time to play—

when protestors can never intervene.

Don't say it's useless; it's not wanton wishes...

don't tell me there's too little freedom these days.

It's you who brings night, turns up the Fahrenheit

turning love sessions into matinees.

You can be my Queller, my hypnotic speller;

you can cast your magic charms over me.

Can't we go down that path knowing the aftermath;

won't you let me see your tumidity?

You're no reprobate...you did not perpetrate...

and I have not been vitiated.

I want to hold you; do what lovers do...

I wanna love you 'til we're both sated.