A full moon night is a great time for some erotic poetry to visit... Something about the way the light gives everything an unreal silver sheen and makes knife-edges of the shadows. And even inside a crowded, bar, its light can reach you...
ee him across the bar – head bobbing in & out of crowds touchable hair kissable eyes ache down to my bottom chakra crude rude glowing light of the middle of me quivering to the rhythm of you & the moon My fingers extend to touch the curls I'm still so far away in more than many ways likeable him likeable lonely me and his strokeable lips I'll run a finger from the nape of his neck inside his collar as if clothing is no impediment to intimate touch nor the crowded bar breathe warm & moist in his ear fuck him hard in the back of his car trying to connect every part of my body to every part of his I want the music to sing between us for fucking to be a composition something to take away when passion has risen & crested
go back slide on top of him both still fully clothed feel him hard against my belly & thighs through his jeans through the thin cotton dress move his hands up my thigh so he can tell I'm not wearing anything else and that I'm ready for him for music
no back return to never did return to his winking head sparkling glass in his hand I'm here only to watch cognizant of other nights other full moon nights such as this where I could slip into this chaos this loud anonymity with the intention fully formed to enter into a singular intimacy with a man of my choosing him to sate my potent unrealized desire
Young Maggie Stuart begins to have strange dreams, then develops what seem to be superhuman perception. Suddenly, she is thrown into the middle of an age-old battle between ancient foes. Will she stay a pawn, or can she become a force to be reckoned with herself? And just how does her teacher Mr. Hunt fit into the picture: as an ally, or her worst enemy of all?
ee him across the bar –
