Savoring the thrill

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Savoring the thrill
Of his tempestuous kiss
He ravaged her soul
In a moment of bliss

She couldn’t catch her breath
His hands were tangled in her hair
And of everything else around her
She was completely unaware

Time seemed to stop
There was nowhere to go
The universe still remained
And yet the day she did not know

For she had lost all awareness
In the nonexistent realm of reality
And all that she remembered
Was what he wanted her to see

 

© 2019 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here;  Savoring the thrill

Forsaken

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The sheets
Were the only witness
As to what transpired
That day
Ending up discarded
In a disheveled mess
On a cold
Barren floor
Tossed nonchalantly aside
Like they never
Even mattered
All the warmth
They ever gave
Instantaneously forgotten
As a sudden moment
Of unforeseen passion
Left them crumpled
And useless

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Blank page

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You stare at me
All bright and clean
Forever taunting
It’s so damn mean

I know your game
I’ve seen it before
Ever daring me
To come explore

To drip my ink
Upon your page
Convincing me
It’s all the rage

But what if I finally
Told you no
Would you then
Just let me go

Or would you dare me
To be your writer
Suggesting I stay
For an overnighter

I can tell you this
You’re wasting your attempts
Cause I feel nothing
But contempt

So unless you want
Your page turned grey
Think I’ll just
Be on my way

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Poor Petunia

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She heard him stumble in
Smelling of smoke and cheap wine
It was half past two
And he had crossed the line

She’d been sound asleep
In such peaceful repose
Then he staggered in
And began licking her toes

She tried to be nice
Even gave him a quick wink
But she was tired of his shenanigans
Whenever he would drink

So she rolled right over
And ignored his advances
He needed to learn
There were only so many chances

© 2018 Michelle Cook


*This is Petunia’s side of the story, you can find Peter’s here.

Poor Peter

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He came to her
With eyes sparkling bright
It was half past two
In the middle of the night

He was grinning wide
From ear to ear
And had a message for her
That was crystal clear

She winked at him
Then went back to sleep
He was left dazed and confused
Yet made not a peep

His mischievous smile faded
As he gave up the go
Accepting the sad truth
That there would be no show

© 2018 Michelle Cook


This is Peter’s side of the story, you can find Petunia’s here.

Deliverance

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Sinking beneath
The waves of regret
She remains so lost
No rescuer yet

And though she prays
For a wave of relief
She’s still consumed
By unending grief

Tonight she knows
She can’t continue on
By morning she feels
She’ll finally be gone

And so with ease
She lets herself fade
Telling herself
She can’t be afraid

By dawn her body
Will be limp and still
No longer used
As some cheap thrill

© 2018 Michelle Cook

The pen ached for his loving touch

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Several long months had passed
Since she’d been held
By her faithful master

She greatly missed
The way his warm hand curved
Around her well-worn body

Sections of her once shiny exterior
Had long ago lost their luster
And now began to flake and peel

His familiar rugged fingerprints
Still appeared in the places
Where she’d been gripped the tightest

Each spot a permanent reminder
Of the intensity in which he wrote
And the passion which he radiated

She continued to ache
For his ever loving touch
And dreamt of his timely return

But she soon came to realize
She was no match for her masters new blond #2
That fair young lady had the bite marks to prove it

© 2018 Michelle Cook