Feral Kisses

You told me my poetry
made you want to f**k me

Because I turn you on
  
Just like that
  
Wow

That gets me wet

Sending my body
into primal desire

To taste

To suck

To swallow

To lick
your length
getting
you nice
and wet
closing my
soft lips
over you

With my hands
on your hips

Your groans
get louder
your breathing
quickens
your dick
begins to pulse

Biting
your lips
cause

You are hunger 
and I am possessed 
by starvation

And you should be at
risk of blowing your load
every-time you read my poetry

But don't cum to fast

Cause I masturbate
ideas in your head

Glistening
forbidden
honey

I got your eyes lingering on
my sweet enticing lips...

There’s sucking dick
and there’s giving head
 
There’s an art
to good head
and m**********r
you’ve put me through
the master class
 
I used to be Bob Ross
with a happy little erection
in my mouth and
now after you
with your
goddamn
hands in
my hair

I realize that I’m
the Salvador Dali of cocksuckers
 
I’m bleeding nightmares
in your apathetic lap
while your eyes
roll back
and you
pray
for the
walls to start
melting before
you jack those hips
and shove yourself
deeper down my throat
and  my porn star eyes
look up and you forget to
die at the sight of
my prom queen
mouth stretched
by your girth
 
I like that moment
because I can sort
of take it easy
a little reflexive
swallowing maybe
and count the
hooker-red
lipstick rings

The endless
shades of
other b*****s
who gobbled
your meat
because
you can twist
a phrase the way
a good poetic s**t

-Strike that-

Like I
can twist my
tongue around
a throbbing stick
 
And I like the way
my baby doll bubblegum pink
gloss reflects the light
on the red-stained
canvas of your c**k
 
While you’re too
sensitive to be touched
when you’re too sated
to want to be
when you’re too
damn used to having
the smell of you in my
my hair as soon as you
reach for your belt
and it’s just too much
effort to pull it out
anymore
 
I can pull back
 
No
F*****g
Worries
 
I can pull back
 
Because you learn that in
the master class too
don’t you
 
babe
 
I’m going to turn around smiling
leave you to pull up
your own jeans

My index finger wiping the
corners of my mouth
and running it inside my lips
tasting the hot salt of you
 
As my other hand reaches for
the tube of gloss
and I wonder
what
 
screamscape
 
I’ll paint next
 
Because you want to feel
my wet ink lips tightly stretched over
your swollen prose head

Cause I want you at risk
of blowing your load
every-time you read
my poetry

By Samantha Campbell

Author's Note

the pic is of my eyes

Reviews

[writing mojo]

just when i think you can't push the limits of lust in poetry you undo my mind a little further, such is a gift in thought you bring to climaxing danger, your words in a rush of blood have ecstasy red and alert in the will of Freudian quills...amazing stuff

[Samantha ~virginpoet]

I would LOVE to be psychoanalyzed. Freud would have had a field day with me.

In Freudian theory, the mind is structured into two main parts: the conscious and unconscious mind. The conscious mind includes all the things we are aware of or can easily bring into awareness. The unconscious mind, on the other hand, includes all of the things outside of our awareness – all of the wishes, desires, hopes, urges and memories that lie outside of awareness yet continue to influence behavior. Freud compared the mind to an iceberg. The tip of the iceberg that is actually visible above the water represents just a tiny portion of the mind, while the huge expanse of ice hidden underneath the water represents the much larger unconscious.

"I think Im good at poetry because I can tap into my unconscious mind I think all poets can to a certain iceberg point ... That is want to zone means to me (The writing zone) its a stream No a drip into the hidden mind. Is it lost in me or am I lost in it?

[writing mojo]

either way you can sure sinks ships with it, and leave us swimming and drowning in your stream of consciousness

[Samantha ~virginpoet]

I dont even know what to say to that haha all I can do is smile seems you got me at a loss of words

[Kenneth The Poet]

I always say "boing" for a reason.

[Coyote Poetry]

Miss Samantha. A amazing poem. So many powerful statements.
"I realize that I’m
the Salvador Dali of cocksuckers"
Thank you for the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Moon]

I love it ! You are simply amazing ! Thank you for sharing .