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.

its broken. kinda like the sweet sparrow dropping hard from its nest its wing flapping hard against the dust of the earth eyes wild and unforgiving, trying hard not to feel sorry for itself and establishes within its mind that it has a broken wing. i wonder if I can fix it. be the invisible cast crimson in creation where miracles happen beyond the skies in pleasurable and comfortable existence. its discarded. merely a decomposed state of composition hidden with maggots and live insects swarming to infect and circumspect the small pieces of flesh exposed from hard calcified bone and marrow. it lays there, a piece blowing in the wind no longer recyclable to be sorted in large aqua blue tubs to be reinvented into plastic cups that once again, someone will throw away. and I wonder. wonder if I can fix it.  be the mending stitch that sways smooth firmness on  supple skin, avoiding infection and  regaining cellular regeneratio...