In Defence of Smut

As some of you know, I work in the book industry. I am surrounded by the latest books on the market, often proofs before they are published. Back around January/February time, I got my hands on a w…

Source: In Defence of Smut

This is an awesome piece I seriously recommend you not only read it but reblog because I really want to break down the snot nosed snobbishness towards one of my genres because it is truly undeserved.

Allow Me

Allow me one trespass,
One transgression against myself,
Allow me to rejoice in your softness,
To seek shelter in your laughter,
To relinquish the reigns of self control for,
An eternally mystifying dance,
As I move my hips,
And move to kiss your lips.
It is best if I am good and proper,
But I cannot resist any longer,
Allow me one trespass,
One moment where the world,
Is no longer against who we are.

Concrete: Warm Up Poetry

Concrete.
Smoking as ash dusts over its surface.
Lacking a human touch.
Too afraid to breathe.
Too afraid to run.
Undead earth.

“Fuck”.
The only words in the apartment as they rut like animals.
Grunting, screaming, moaning.
The wet needing openness of lust,
fills with every loving thrust.
Another kisses her mouth,
He grabs her hair and lifts.
From her to his lips.
From her to her to him.
The lonely three in a concrete city,
Finding solace in each other as
fingers find soft and yearning sacred grounds and,
Tantalizing brown and white and red flesh,
She counts the bruises on her neck.
He counts the scars on her shoulders.
She simply screams beneath them both.
Their love is not some ephemeral thing.
Not some weird toy.
Not some sinful thing.
It is simply one thing in a maze of concrete,
And empty houses next to empty homes.

Finds Me: A Late Night Piece of Poetry/Prose

He awoke before I did.
He awoke and left a note by my pillow.
“Love you always.
Today is the next step to forever.”
When I awake I slip it in my pocket,
Throughout the day my fingertips leave kisses on its spine.
My legs grow weak at work.
My smile becomes heavy.
Customer after customer.
Nice usually.
Usually.
You know I want out.
Forever…is this my forever?

I trail my fingers over that note.
Defying the dread in my heart,
With one more push for a smile.

At day’s end I’m home first.
Dishes set for dinner,
Possibly for one.
But he finds me in the kitchen.
He finds me and grabs me by the waist.
He finds my neck and drowns me in kisses.
Spreads my thighs and finds more.
More.
He finds every scar I’ve ever had,
Every stain from ever bloody memory,
And for now they are erased.
With deft hands and warm fingers,
My sore tired flesh is explored.
Sensitive breasts lead to sighs,
Sensitive necks lead to growls.
One more reason to smile.
He finds me panting and moaning when he takes me.
He finds I moans loudest when its dirtiest.
He finds pleasure in my whimpering,
Beauty in begging,
A symphony in my shudders,
And ecstasy in hidden nature.

Dressed and sorted with rosy cheeks,
We make our plates,
Ignore the lingering heat,
And I try not to melt over lingering bliss.
“How was your day?” he asks, and we talk.
And we argue.
And we laugh.
And when the dishes are clear and the time is right…
He finds me again.
And today, I think, is the next step to forever.