Lewd Poems Contest

Hands made for hips
give me a place to hide.
My buttons trip over themselves
To leave me exposed,
my blouse on the floor
gaping like a wound
that just won’t close.

Undoing,
undone.

Stungun lips
Graze pelvic grips
To broken sounds
Of sun down silence.

Counter-pieces
Interlocking,
Biting bottom lips,
as sins into
their vices slip.

The door does not wake me
When the sky is bleeding night colors
And the stars are weeping their light.

The quiet collapse of the mattress
Should disturb the death in my limbs
But I am locked in a box
That just won’t open.

And through its night,
I can’t make out anything.

It wraps me in
familiar trappings
of darkness,
despite the light.

Don’t let me escape
the air in my lungs.
I am too vulnerable
with my eyes shut.