Butch Stuff, Poetry

7 Word Sunday

The words lingered on her lips gone.

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Poetry

Fear

Delicately I take your hand And pull you hard into meHere is where the delicacy endsAs we begin to set our passion free. Pinning you against that hard wallForcing your hands up overheadAs gasp escapes your quivering lipsThought spins on that of dread Turn your head and bear that neckYour throat lain bare for meMy cold steel blade… Continue reading Fear

Poetry, Things Butch-Femme

Fire and want

The smoldering fire, white hot, rages In my gut, my heart, my loins I crave to take you there Completely, unashamedly To places only you dream Of On days that end in Y Your why is never questioned You obey, you submit, you come To me, willingly, softly, fiercely Rage In my mind, in my… Continue reading Fire and want