Jadedisland
A Kawaii Memoir

Poetry

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Posts tagged Sexuality
Phases of Lips

Written 05/10/18

Lips, luscious, luxury, everything desirable. The gate to the sins of your favorites.What color adorned a sweet smile, red to rock the world in Gatsby scandal. Pink to tempt the ATM into spoiling the white lines of cocaine whims. Brown to hush away the souls of cowardly men before devouring their ego whole. 

Lips are everything. A fine line between hers and mine, or his and mine, or just theirs and mine. A barrier between voices, and decadent choices. It is the guardian to my bitterness, to my seduction, to my devastation, to the everlasting muse of my complications. 

Lips as luscious and lavish in mind as they are in person or lingering on mine. 

- Empress Jade

Primal Woman (2016)

Written 12/03/16

Primal woman your ebony skin inspires

from the gold on your wrists to red desires

flushed on your queued lips lingers taste

for life. blessed are the curves not a waste

on a body we will never shackle and wife

for you goddess are so divine and vital 

to the facets of pubescent dreams in title

the core of weaponized sexual ability

to seduce the man to bow to your whims

and weaken his resolve to stay fertility

for another night in barbaric sexual brawls

that in the light of a new day dim

see him kneel, see him beg and crawl

what have you done primal woman

that you lead those astray from ringed

fingers and create the idolized totem

of buxom breast and unrestrained lusts

destroying the sanctity of court trusts

ID’s Natural Market

Written 04/19/18

The affliction of lust, boils the blood intimately.  Driving skin to crave warm caresses, and dive in the decadence of soiled sheets.


The pleasure of innocence lost, and knowledge at the climax. Perhaps it’s a study session in climaxes. There is intricacy in connection at the apex of smooth thighs, or decibels of pleasure ridden cries.


Smut dripping smiles, that beckon the weary to experience a physical inquiry. One that rides, and dines in all the right places leaving sticky faces.


The mess of lust is a market of fine dining, and workouts that leave us all breathless. Riddled with intensity or laughter, or hushed words of love in the middle.


The things said during the dance of sweaty bodies, the ones that leave the mind curious if there’s more beyond the decadence of touches and thrusts. Unaware that even here there is no trust.


The sheets don’t hold promises, only the mess of quick orgasms and unsatisfaction. The pillow talk, mindless in its abandoned insertions of the faces never staying long. The truth of intimacy is not a place to belong when the soul is searching for love on the wrong tongue.

 

- Lost in you, Jade 🌵