Winsome Woe

sensual poems for husband

Poem

 

I do lament
he does not call
I am bereft

Sagacious Moon
I am Withal
I cast a Spell
and he shall Fall

oh Tallest, Tall, of Tall there be
take this and that
and then come lay here avec me

my thighs are soft and tender dear
your cheek, may it rest right here

no, I mean there….I….

Oh handsome, if ever handsome made
wherewithal, I am your slave!

Oh damn the stars and moon so bright
it is the Sun I orbit at night
that he should smile upon me still
and make me quiver with his manly…

Where it be that man is so
ever may it be my woe,
for oft a Love thusly savage
may make me

Oh…

Oh,

No!

No!

 

more by JULSEY DAHLING

photograph by Anna Demianenko

 

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