Erotic Poetry

My hands,

Dexterous in their palpation

And reverent in their caress,

Sculpt my breasts

Into sweet luminous mounds

Of warm Venus-kissed flesh.

When once they were hidden stones,


And unfeeling,

They have become a secret garden

Of transcendent writhing

And abundant plenty,

Connected by hand, heart, spirit and loin.

*** This poem was inspired by a wonderfully written post on breast massage and self-love by The Empress Hexe and The Emperor, one of my favourite bloggers (or set of bloggers…). I absolutely love their spiritual approach to the kinkier aspects of sex and sexuality. Their reverence for the body, for sexual pleasure and pain, for spiritual connection is very refreshing in a profane world often void of the sacred. ***


One of the twins, “Thelma”. The other is “Louise”… of course. Art by TJ.


20 thoughts on “Breasts

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