Mind Caviar Poetry

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.

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