As a child, mommy told you about fire,
Playing with it… consequences are dire.
So when we first spoke and my gaze was magnetic,
I warned you of the danger, but you told me to “forget it.”

When lips touched, Niagara’s falls heightened up speed,
The waves crashed faster, so I just took the lead.
Emotions were high. Might as well call it weed,
DNA spilled profusely. You chose to let it bleed.

Me? I’m no angel. I’m guilty as charged,
Convicted of attraction. Eternally at large.
The judge should throw the book at my seductive soul,
Probation wouldn’t work. Control is my goal.

So while your hair’s pulled back and you release your heart,
And when you’re on top and your thighs choose to part.
Ingest all that I give as a gift from my being,
I have no plans to stop until double is what you’re seeing.

Tongue to tongue, lip to lip and cheek to cheek,
It only grows larger, whether day, month or week.
Control your doubtful thoughts, dear. Enjoy being weak.
This is just the beginning. There is no peak.

 

Read more of Cyntax’s poetry here: WritersCafe.org/Cyntax2

Amanda Graham

Amanda Graham

Editor at NY Literary Magazine
Amanda holds an M.A. in History. She loves well-written poetry and romance novels. Amanda has 2 cats and a 3-year-old son.
Amanda Graham