The way you brush my body with your hand
sends a bolt of lightning through my veins so
powerful even Zeus could not withstand.

Longing to feel the pleasure of your blow
as I hold the rod of your love. My dear,
I know our roots will not go much deeper.
For now, like atoms, I want you as near.

I pray, take me now, be my souls’ reaper.
My canvas is yours to paint with pure milk.
Body against body beat like a drum
in the song of seduction smooth as silk.

Erotically awaiting you to come
to me before I regret I’m now read.
Romeo and Juliet, my heart’s dead.

“Writing for me is like going on a mini-vacation. I can go anywhere in the world in a short amount of time by escaping into my own thoughts.
I am a 17-year-old writer, going into my third year at the Grand Valley State University. I have published three poems and I am pursuing a degree in journalism.
I have been a writer and a lover of English since before I could even write. I would go up to my mom and tell her to write down my poems for me. My poem, The Art, is in the form of a Shakespearean sonnet.” – Olivia

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

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