Now I reflect.

This is a poem that I wrote back in the gap...it exists mainly on gspoetry (southernlady. look me up.) Anywhoooo, here it is:


Touch Memory

as i lay here
wishing you were still beside me.
i find myself touching me.
everywhere you had.
regretting the fact that with each shower i take,
i have to wash you away again.
so all im left with is the memories
until your return.

i remember the gentle kisses you placed on my back,
up my shoulders, and down my neck.
how your gentle suckling helped to erect my nipples
while you began to arouse the rest of me.
i actually envision you kissing down
my ribcage, beyond my belly button as you set
fort to place the gentlest kiss on my pearl.

i shudder as i reflect on how you gently licked at that spot
and began to engage in it until
my body cringed with pleasure.
and right as i enter this zone
i remember feeling your entrance
as i look down and see you actively tasting
the deepest inside
i begin to lose control of my body.
yet i know that there is more in store.

finally my mind replays the scene where you make
your presence known.
you dig into my deepest memory until you find.....
BOOM
as you re-discover that magical spot and begin to
repetitively hit it and
just when i think i cannot handle any more of this
you ease up, slow it down, look at me
and at that point i am glad to look up at you.

as I lay trying to sleep
I cant help but remember you and try to
touch myself where you touched me.....

if only in memory of you....

I did not know what was going to happen; I had no idea that I'd be dropped like another bad habit. So I wonder why, anyone who could care enough to make me happy would make me hurt. Every time I read this, I am again reminded that someone who I thought was essentially what I wanted was exactly what I thought. Every time I make an exception to my thought (men will do anything and everything to fuck you...and just pick and choose who you let get away with their fuck mission) something like this happens. I get blindsided by the nerd who was just like me, except that he was a dude, with a huge dick, who knew how to use it...with a magical tongue...and an overwhelming imagination.

Furthermore, every time I think I am at the point where I am comfortable enough to give to whomever my partner may be, he's done with me. I feel like I keep getting discarded. Every time I am able to think "next time I am going to reward him for how he's made me feel" there is no next time. I am beginning to feel a little used up, and I haven't even had the chance to pour the naughty out of the deep crevices of my brain on anyone yet.

I.N.N.W?

(here's the gs link: http://www.gspoetry.com/touchmemory-erotic-poems-364167.html)