Oct 24 2014



By T-Ray Bond


I can still smell you here

though you’re now four-days gone

and my pillow retains your hot scent


If I touch crumpled sheets

in the spots that were wet

I can still feel the passion we spent


And the guttural sounds

ghostly notes in the air

are the climaxed moans I still hear


I still savor the taste

where your sweet thighs connect

and I hunger for the trap oh so near


Can’t believe I still feel

where your hard-nippled breasts

seared brands that labeled me yours


Now my longing takes charge

as it locks me in place

like a puppy that wags at the door


Damn these hours that pass

damn the pain I endure

damn my phone that refuses to ring


Is it love that I feel

or lust that consumes

while your trap continues to sting


-It’s this prison I’ve made-


Doomed to live in a glass

filled with torture and gin

since you’re home with your husband and kids



© Copyright 2014 T-Ray Bond. All rights reserved.
T-Ray Bond has granted Prowling with Kat, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

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