Erotic Poetry
Scheherazade, by Arllyn Hernandez
It was here on the dashboard
there on the table where
on the bed the sum of twenty fingers four legs two mouths
one dirty mind adding up to monumental creativity
the essence of other people’s sex – sex with
other people – I wrap around you a story of intertwined
figures dancing naked on public beaches
sharing an acid high lust masquerading as psychosis
the living breathing sugar sand creeping into my cunt
as you licked away the embarrassment of a long-suffered
virginity knowing this fucking could have been
– or probably was – meant for some other body
is what contorts your face into the silent scream you spilled
inside me you cannot resist competing with the sheer
volume of new – repeat – traffic
the Johns Janes Dicks and Annes Scheherazade
drawing forth almost orgasms from cliffhangers
riding the razor edge of anticipation one for each
day and night you missed of my sexual awakening there were
endless beginnings until you mastered the art of letting
go stroking with the current of my wetness
instead of against my inclinations middles in which
I wooed you with tales of toys that vibrated plugged tied
pinched stretched the limits of your imaginings
to begging boys flogging you for my pleasure endings
that fetishized your innate jealousy into voyeurism foreplay
three four five my-ways with you the titillated spectator
outside the circle of cocks and come raining upon
my face breasts ass with jerks and slaps my story
ended with twenty toes four arms two hearts adding up
to one filthy love bounding between us exhausted
we crash from squeezing pushing thrusting
biting scratching beating sleep away the fucking
tomorrow's twilight your tale to tell.
Originally Published April 2010