He kisses me,
and I feel his need.
His tongue moves across my lips,
and I feel his need.
He caresses me, a hand on my breast,
and I feel his need.
His hand explores my inner thigh,
and I feel his need.
I part my legs, I am open to him,
and I feel his need.
As we move in harmony,
the sweat we taste as only lovers do
and I feel his need.
He whispers to me of love and wanting,
and I feel his need.
But then,
But when, as he lies spent,
I lay empty and wanting..
I lay needing.
He holds me,and feels not my need.
He kisses me,and feels not my need.
how can he not feel it?
the fire, the burning,
how can he not feel it?
this need is pulsating, palpable.
how can he not feel it?
Why does he not feel it..
this need of mine.
He sleeps now,
while I lay awake.
He thinks he knows me,
and I thought so too.
But we are strangers,now
as I lay needing.
He sleeps now,
unaware that soon we will part.
He will ask why?
and how will I tell him?
just another man
that left a woman awake
not knowing her need.
I wrote this novel several years ago, I self published and never had it to sell. I have decided to rewrite it and hope to get it published within a few months for people to be able to buy. I had a few copies and gave them to a few family members and
Facing imprisonment in 2061’s dystopian Manhattan, Cori Christopher is given the opportunity to time travel to Occupied Paris in 1941 to try and save singer Noel Matheson, leader of the Cafe Violette Resistance, from Nazi destruction…and perhaps save
Blue eyed fish...
sounds like whoever is a loser. I like the poem.