Lovelies; I shall continue to use this blog for poetry, but for my found images, please visit Model Lesbians! xox


Love Songs

Love songs have long been written by men
Poems for the goddesses of their own minuscule worlds,
But love songs from one woman to another,
Such things are far more rare.
Centuries of words have been penned
In the wavering time between dusk and dawn,
In shadow less cells if ancient desire.

There is something magical about a poem
Drawn forth from female form to female form,
Erotic and tender, from the supple lips of one to another.

My love songs, they have always been written for women,
For the subtle pear of a mouth, the broken line
As shoulders dip to collar bones.
I could never begin to imagine trading
Delicate hipbones and her perfect handfuls.

I have tasted far too many sweet lips under mine,
Felt too many thin fingers bruising my back in ecstasy.
I have never witnessed such divine supplication elsewhere.

I could write volumes, the words I have,
For the way a hitch of breath, a sharp inhale, can catch me,
Pressing its inches between sternum and centre.

I have slept nights to find hands whispered
Between my gentle frame, impressing, courting my body,
Such a pleasurable prison, so clean, so perfect.

Winter smells remind me of the women I have loved.
I lay, body stretched across the cooling earth,
Sharp chill, weather perfect for sleeping.
This is the moment when I am most here, most alive;
It is not those gasping hours beneath sheets,
But rather, solitary and tranquil, waiting,
For the night the Northern Lights will appear.

Individual love songs have begun to feel contrite,
To feel wasted. Instead, I write a love poem
To a while gender, those fine women of length
And fluidity, of fine bones like maps
And mouths tasting of longing fruit.

To turn away, oh it would cause such anguish.