Sexy Poems

Here for you viewing pleasure are two sexy poems. Why you ask? Because it's Monday and Mondays are sexy days.
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I saw her
Delicate and drawn,
Grasping and groping and
Hoping this time it was real.
And it was for an instant---

The light from the hallway
Shown perfectly across her.
The heavy exhale of quaking breath,
The rhythm of the cicadas,
Who climbed from the dirt,
Toward the heavens,
Put on their wings,
And sang us that song,
While the empty shell of their childhood
Sat deaf and mute.


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The smooth sexuality of a poet
Runs through ink and charcoal and key.
It wraps its fingers around the hard edge
Of a book and straightens the spine.
It speaks in whispers and longings like a nun,
Huddled against the wall, gripping a rosary, with a pillow
Between her legs.