Say I

Upon these sheets stuck to intertwined flesh

Stickened with slick sensual sweat

There is but a pause,

A hesitate in a mere whisper,

Yet of note just the so

Sayest I:

Of this moment

Prayst do not begat a stranger’s distant,

Mayhaps in the morrow

Shalt we recant

From the seed of yearn

The actions taken

In this night of plant

In the now let these sensations slide

Become swept away

In the swell of passion’s riptide –

Hold back not

To fantasy’s abide –

Drown in the tsunami of molten excite,

Let the scorching want emanate

Out from our shared inside

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30 thoughts on “Say I

    1. Thank you and I certainly will enjoy all the writes! Glad you liked the style, I wasn’t too sure about changing the structure from the orginal modern version that I wrote down last night but the table of women I was sitting with insisted that I shouldn’t call the piece “For the love of all that’s holy don’t blue ball me”

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  1. Chuckle! I for one think I rather like the rejected title referred to above.

    Great poem. Feeling rather exhausted! 🙂 I love the use of “riptide.”

    Nicely done. Enjoy Potluck!

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    1. Thank you and I shall. I like the original title myself, I don’t know why people have higher expectations of class from me….

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  2. I absolutely love the way you wrote/expressed this piece!!! I had to read it twice, I love the way it flows! Happy Potlucking!

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  3. “…Mayhaps in the morrow
    Shalt we recant
    From the seed of yearn WOW! how often do we regret the seed we planted
    The actions taken and fear that it might grow!?
    In this night of plant…”

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    1. I screwed that up!

      “…Mayhaps in the morrow
      Shalt we recant
      From the seed of yearn
      The actions taken
      In this night of plant…”

      W OW! how often do we regret the seed we planted
      And fear that it might grow?

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  4. You’re like a world class sprinter practicing for a race. You glide around the track like it’s no sweat. This is too easy for you. dabbling… that’s what you’re doing… dabbling in poetry.
    Me, I’m the water boy. Just wad up that thing I wrote and toss it in the can! Jeesh.

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    1. Hah! I wish! I fear I’m like a catfish in a shallow footprint, just gaspin’ for air and utterly useless waiting for the bobcat to come and eat me up alive. Your write had me thinking a whole myriad of scenes that would provoke the inner dialogue about ‘cross the street – that is talent

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  5. “Drown in the tsunami of molten excite”…now that’s some serious excitement!
    A lovely, sensual write.

    Thanks also for your kind words on my entry. Much appreciated.

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