The Lustful Empress

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hungry for not-food

Hurricane

Erotic Poetry

She is a hurricane in an envelope

Of rice paper,

And she bleeds honeyed dew from the cleft between her thighs.

She is terror and peace

And boiled lava with cinnamon

On a good day.

All on a good day.

~~~

❤👽xoxoxo👽❤

~~~

Yeah. Having a hypersexual day. Again. Fuck.

September 4, 2020September 18, 2020 TJ Tagged feeling hypersexual, hungry for not-food, muse 10 Comments

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My skin is a parched tongue,

Cracked, crazed and coarse,

Needing water and words and wanton worship,

To fill in and fuck the fissures

That never seem to close.

Sundays make me feel uneasy…. *clutches chest and winces*

❤👽xoxoxo👽❤

June 2, 2019June 2, 2019 TJ Tagged anxiety, catharsis, crappy poetry, fuck me goddamit, hungry for not-food, needy little baby 4 Comments
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