I am wrapping up my erotic poetry book. At the moment it stands at 73 poems. I have no idea what the future holds for this book, but I’ve had an absolute blast writing it.

Ode to My Husband’s Tongue

It’s soft —
luscious.
Pink like me.
A weapon
when my husband’s on his knees.
The creator of tingles
and shockwaves.
It strokes,
swirls,
leaving me floating
among the clouds.
When my husband
opens my world with two fingers,
it sweeps across my button —
the epicenter.
He likes my taste.
It’s warm,
wet,
delicious.
It speaks
even when it’s not speaking.
It brings pleasure
that lingers in my dreams.