Posted by: S. N. Harrell | July 16, 2011


You talk to me and our languages aren’t the same.

Mine is English and your’s has no name.

You try to describe it

but no words form so you show it.

By wrapping me in you and you in me;

in a language that lasts

with the only action of us communicating



I talk you up and in my dreams you appear;

kissing, hugging, doing the right things;

turning my body into an ocean

of more … more … more

The orgasmic cheer.


I speak to you

honey in your ear

whispering deeds yet to be done

when no one is near.

Loving and intimate

slow and fast

soft and rough

in, out, up, down, back, forth

of you I’ll not get enough.

I’m cliché

but you’re sexy

and at the end of it

I don’t need to communicate

I just need you to (sex? Make love?) Fuck me.


© S. N. Harrell 2011


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