TruLayd
loves to read and write poetry, and has recently begun to write short stories.
Her poetry has been published previously in Mind Caviar, A
Bi-Friendly Place, Ophelia's
Muse, Erotica Readers Association
and Pornotopia. She's happy to have found, in the last year, that
there are a great number of people out there enjoy her poetry. Mind Caviar
encourages you to savor the following three delicious poems.
E-mail
TruLayd. Visit TruLayd online.
The Tie That
Binds
Follow through,
curve of hip
crack of - whip
lash - tongues robust flesh.
Silver ice, stainless -
steal - sighs,
nipple rings encircle
chilled, studs of flaunted
crystal.
Feathered - masks
angel eyes -
blue leathered lust -
vinyl, flesh bound and trussed.
Stiletto heels -
visible tip
in silvered steel -
brilliance beguiling in
flame.
Nails - red -
slip and scratch
lines of pleasure
awaken luxurious flesh.
Black - flame
candle - drip
waxes and wanes,
puddles frigid on yielding
skin.
Cock - implores
standing - urging
my attention - jewels
bound by suede caress.
Purple crown -
royal velvet
lusts passionate device,
tongued and taunted to taste.
Mercurial beads-
sticky reward -
cobweb like strands,
waft over lips, neck, and
hands.
Fetish attended -
rose blossoms,
crimson on ivory,
layered strokes of pleasured-ache.
Copyright
© 2001 TruLayd. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post
Outside Looking In
I listen to your verse time
and again,
wishing to hold you in my
embrace,
to bring you inside, out
of the cold.
To wrap you in gossamer
fantasies
bestowing all that you've
dreamed.
To soothe your skin with
gentle fingertips
warming your spirit and
stirring your desire.
To settle with you in peaceful
passionate confines,
dwelling on gluttonous insatiability;
wasting not one precious
moment on the mundane,
savoring each sensation,
flavor, touch, kiss,
as though it were the only
to ever exist.
To express breathless impatience
in mediums beyond obligation,
to pour forth tears of endless
pleasure
in the experiencing of a
perfect ethereal climax.
To nevermore lie in isolation,
but to lie instead
in the arms of consummate
bliss.
To expire each night inside
the embrace
of fevered abandon.
Copyright
© 2001 TruLayd. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post
Touch Me in the Night
I sigh wishing you were here...
I touch myself,
caress myself with your
remembered words.
My hands become yours
and they slip over the warmth
of silken skin,
kneading the gentle slope
of rounded breasts
brushing lightly over the
ripeness
of nipples in full blush.
Swelling in want of your
touch;
nipples that yearn to be
savored
by tempered lips, bathed
by moist tongue,
taunted by insistent teeth.
My thighs quiver at the thought
of your fantasized touch,
juices course freely over
fingers,
digits questing arousal,
seeking the fire
that burns between exquisite
pouty labium.
Wet fingers slither over
wetter flesh,
mind and body glut on carnal
pleasures;
fevered imagination makes
you real.
Fingers become you; it is
you touching me,
the hardness of your cock;
teasing slickend pink tissue,
Sensation moves like lightning
up my spine,
and I utter your name passionately
as the evidence of
lust deluges my loins.
Copyright
© 2001 TruLayd. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post. |