They Don’t Need Us

So, being unemployed again, while sucking for the whole income thing, seems to have sparked a great deal of creativity. I have been writing a lot lately and that feels good, very good in fact. So I have a new piece and in keeping with my new theme of experimentation it is something that I do not write about often nor do I think I write about it well, but that is why I am trying it again, to see if I can get better. This is a sex poem, so you have now been warned. I am always worried when I try to write erotically, I think it always just sounds silly rather than arousing. I think I did ok on this one, but we shall see. More so than other pieces, I would really appreciate feedback on this one as I really want to grow my work and I need to know if this achieved the desired effect. Anyway, good followers of the imposter, happy reading, cheers all.

She lounges casually

Bed clothes rumpled

Back to headboard

Half sitting, half laying

Eyes closed, lips parted

Anticipating phantom kiss.



You watch her

Hungry voyeur



Her hands move

Slowly, so slowly

No wasteful urgency,


She has all the time

And she will take it all.




Defining herself in lines

Pleasure in knowing, seeking

Neck, collar bones,

Breast, belly, thighs

Geographies of pleasure

Ripples begin

Lapping from the center out.



Always circling

Never landing

Smooth, confident

She knows the route

No need for direction

No fumbling back seat driver

She knows exactly where she wants to go

And just how to get there.



Sighs and moans

She plays a symphony on herself

Tempo quick, slow, quick

Rising, falling, chords building

Finger plucking notes of ecstasy

A call to play

Her body answers without hesitation

Heated flesh whispers

Seduction of sheets

Susurration, fabric another layer

Of sensation, dragging, pulling

Supple rustling

Back arching glorious curve.



Caresses become

Gropes, clutching

Hands and body grow greedy for each other

Plunging, writhing, bed and body

Describing new architectures of pleasure

Heat and slick

Fingers drip honey

All intimacies uncovered,

Spasm clench sweat gleam

Her own best lover

Teasing waves to tsunami heights

Come crash roaring down, down

Tumble thrash drowning gasping

Desperate breath

Finally washed back up upon shores

Trembling in delicious repose.



You watch this all

Aching, empty, quaking

Wanting her all the more

For knowing

She doesn’t require you at all.


5 Responses to “They Don’t Need Us”

  1. Wasteful urgency is a good line. I like this – cheers to creativity 🙂

  2. Its actually quiet lovely. Erotic without ever being crude or making the act feel cheap. Instead you’ve celebrated something that we all too often sweep under the rug as wrong. Kudos and much graditude to you.

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