She finds herself
waiting
aching
longing
yearning
for his explicit
instruction,
for the certainty
of his control,
knowing the way
her body
will respond
with an urgent spike
of naked desire.
.
.
Not new, but sometimes relevant.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Oxer
I keep saying
your name
over and over
because I adore
the taste of you
on my lips,
the feel of you
in my mouth,
the shape of you
on my tongue.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Oxer
What is it like?
.
What is it like to be with her
hearing her words
knowing her dreams?
What is like to be hers?
.
What is it like to be closer
stroking her hair
holding her body?
What is like to be there?
.
What is it like to be inside
feeling her skin
parting her thighs?
what is like to be in?
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Oxer
This poem, written by me in my teens, often pops into my head. Of course, I have no idea what I am thinking about that suddenly brings it to mind….. Smiles
But here it is – recited by a much older, but sometimes still very inquisitive, me.
Not the first time I have posted it
I am not an artist.
I have not the talent
the commitment
the creativity
or the eye.
I am not an artist
but I will paint
your beauty
and body
in words
so you can read
how much
I adore you.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Oxer
There must be a word
for that strange feeling
(disturbing
yet flattering)
you experience
when you know
someone
(possibly beautiful
potentially a thief)
has been quietly
discreetly
steadily
(over days
and months)
reading their way
through your blog.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Oxer
He is her secret
she swallows
the thought of him
and feels the tug
inside
the constant
hungry presence
between her thighs
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Posted this time last year, but I like it.
Art by William Oxer
As I look
at your photograph
I imagine
gently lifting your chin
with the tips
of my long fingers
and placing
a tender kiss
in the perfect
scented hollow
of your elegant throat.
In my mind
it is the first
of a thousand
more kisses
to brush
and touch
and taste
and caress
over and over
every single inch
of your exquisite
skin.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
A year old – but a thousand kisses at the ready.
Art by William Oxer
