Last Goodbye

I still smell his scent on my sheets
Though it’s been long since he left my bed
Lifting his pillow to my face
I am reminded of our last night together

How he clung to me like a man possessed
His whispers in my ear
Of need and desire

Hands crushing and grasping and pinching
Squeezing my soft flesh
Caressing my curves
Stroking my wet folds

Teeth scraping and nipping and biting
His breath coming in starts and gasps
Nails scratching down, down, deeper

How he bit and licked and sucked
His moans evermore increasing
Longing evident
Come here?’ he asked rather than demanded

Pressed against him, my back to his chest
How could I get any closer?
His touches became more insistent
Desperate

I sat up, my back to him
Letting him view my naked body
My hands traced my soft edges
Groaning, he gripped my hip
Pulling me to him

As I straddled his unrelenting body
Joining in the sacred dance
Two lovers uniting
His face alight with passion
I wondered what he saw in me
Why I mattered so much in that moment

It was as if he knew he needed
To leave a part of himself with me
His very essence
Spread over me, through me, inside me

And in the morning when he was gone
I was left alone again
Just myself, my thoughts, and his scent
A vivid reminder of nights long past
An ache which remained long after


tara caribou | ©️2019

10 Comments on “Last Goodbye

  1. “I wondered what he saw in me
    Why I mattered so much in that moment”

    I think we too often focus on the “why” of things. But, that is hard to get away from doing. This was both a very erotic and very thought provoking piece.

    Liked by 2 people

    • You nailed it, AC. That was the whole point, I think, of why I wrote this. Who am I? Nobody, really. Yet sometimes I matter to others, although I’d say usually not. So in those cases that I do…. why??
      Thanks for reading.

      Liked by 1 person

The Peddler

Art Consignments in Ninilchik, Alaska

The Pegasus Fiasco

Apologies for my apologies

Sircharlesthepoet

Poetry by Charles Joseph

Rum and Robots

We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive

Robert Charboneau.

Writer and Artist

living document

a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind

Anonymously Hal

Poetry, Photography, and Thoughts

FRANKENSKIES

The Lies in the Skies Exposed

Writer In Retrospect

"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am..." --Maya Angelou

The Tigress Awakens

Welcome to my tiny corner of the universe filled with poems that I have written.

ED A. MURRAY

Author | Freelance Writer | Blogger

singlemomlife

livingforthemoon

Better Letters

Butterwell's Blog

my life as a piece of string

... from a silent space

%d bloggers like this: