Longing for touch and
touching, feeling, pressing,
squeezing.
The feeling of skin on skin,
body heat transmitting and melding in
majestic intimacy.
Lust leads to
surrogate sources of climax.
Thirst remains,
gratification delayed to
flow forth again.
by Erik Shinker
I dream of sticky lips
in poised and yearning embrace.
Tongues teased to taste
a single drop of splendor.
Palms gliding in soft,
urgent pressure.
Hard and soft, diametrically opposed yet
natural in their coupling.
The words themselves causing excitement
from nipple to navel, through
thigh and ascended, blushing cheeks.
An ideal of intimacy with
partnership past the simplicity of
laying lovers.
As if such things could
be made manifest simply by my
wishing.
by Erik Shinker
I once had a friend who was a firm believer in astrology, so she was proud to inform me that I am a Virgo since I was born on the 22nd of September (which is also the fictional birthday of Frodo and Bilbo Baggins, so shout out to them); the symbol for Virgo is the maiden, or virgin, and I don’t think that she realized how accurate that is. Yes, I am a 26-year-old virgin (now the Hobbit reference makes sense, right?); I’m sure questions are running through your mind about how this could come about, and I hope to give some insight into the choices I have made throughout my life, some of which may surprise you. Don’t worry, the featured image is simply an allusion to the most famous of virgins; there won’t be any preaching in this post.
Continue reading “Virgin is Such a Dirty Word”
