Stay a little while longer, he would say Each breath closer to the nape of my neck Fingers move more in on the grounds before play Erogenous, the zones in which he dares to trek Come a little closer, he simply wishes Movements inching across broad horizons Suddenly, a captive to warm kisses Unable to move from what sleek cautions Relax a little more, he softly commands Detangling nerve muscle and tendons gripped in stress Rub softer and deeper in skilled mahogany hands Lift a shirt here, unbutton there...Monotonous undress. In eyes that saw me so beautifully and divinely clothed, His only desire to see another check mark disrobed. -b.r.rivera #30in30 Poem 21 of 30 A Shakespearean Sonnet.  Fixed form of 3 quatrains, 1 couplet with abab, cdcd, efef gg.

I like my body when it is with your body. Our voices echo. Magnifying your arrival. It is so quite new a thing. New statue...In a drafty museum. Your nakedness Shadows our safety. Sweet voice. Sweet Lips. Soft Hands, and softer Body remember not only how much you were loved. Hard to imagine getting anywhere near another semi nude encounter down this concrete slab  of interstate, the two of us all thumbs not only the beds where you lay, but also those desires for you. To play without shame. To be a woman, who feels only the pleasure of being used and who reanimates the user's... Best get down on all fours. Ease our noses past rear-end collisions wrapped around embracing minds, and hearts exhang'd for hearts. don't be dull and boring and pretentious, don't be consumed with self love. i like my body when it is with your body. eyes big love-crumbs and possibly i like the thrill of under me you so quite new. -b.r.rivera a Found Poem. ...

he called it a kiss. i called it a misrepresentation of a moment held lip to lip. hardly mentionable. if anything, exceedingly questionable of the stillness that holds silence in the dark. it lays thick. the silence. a hung canopy weighted in the air of deadly gasses to the masses particulate clouded in smokey haze and devilish grins of sarcasm and uncompensated limbs. how dare he even speak that word? he calls it a kiss. I take a drag of a menthol cigarette and exhale bullshit. we were once so beautiful then. no wrinkly lines to expose wasted years and wasted tears held with grains of sand and unspoken arguments that became our religion. the passion, an unrequited love marked by inked x's and o's reserved for secret lines and tell tale signs of what was passion of a honeymoon phase now the spark sprinkled from the star gazing eye dreaming of a hundred ways to become that reverie again. that mystical way in a graze of the skin became an ignitio...

I lay upon the crisp sheets pillows adorned with soft down compliment the white angelic beauty of this linen. I know what awaits for me. it is him. Inhaling his scent, my body turns to face him as we shadow dance in the dark. The pale moon bounces off the sheer curtains playfully unto my skin in the presence of this undefined space, his chocolate mocha skin undeniable and smooth his lips, warm and soft. indulgence of the highest pedigree as I increase the seconds to which he enters me. soulful and hedonistic his smooth circles sway my hips in unified and synchronized rhythms as he again and again and again presses his lips to the this and that of the nape of my neck and he pulls me deeper and inches I arch my back. I want more. Give me more. Perspiration forms as beads trickled to my middle of increasing moistness skin to skin gliding Trying to hold back. Fighting the thunderous buildup which he again and again licks from the sweet cup out from which I flow a river of satisfaction And ...