I watch a lot of Spanish and European TV and film. They always seem to be a bit more saucy than our standard British fare. The naughty scenes portray more hunger, are more graphic and seem more urgent. That kind of inspired this poem. It’s not a topic I usually write about, nonetheless, I am pretty pleased with how this turned out.
The Gift
Carried through the door in a state of near delirium
Pausing a second to take stock before diving in
The uppermost coupling bonded
Plugged in
Unleashing the frenzied tearing at layers of unwanted wrapping
Living this joyous ritual in reverse
Hastily ripping them all away
to reveal the gift that lies beneath
The second coupling
Holding fast
Breathlessly examining each and every niche
Pervading all furrows
Hard drilling to mine the diamonds within
Tenderness can wait
Tenderness comes later
Clasping and grabbing at this moment
Consuming and exploring every each inch of flesh
Until we fill each other to the brim
Sated
Energy levels low
We lay suspended
Affixed
Succumbing to a wave of sleep
The weighted blanket of anticipation removed
We float
Contemplating a different reality
Who knows if Christmas will come again
Poetry for Dullards 