Wanderlust

[shotknot]

The lips of another seem so tantalizing,
tasting a foreign tongue,
feeling an unknown pore,
against mine (equally unfamiliar,)
yet my cravings for such a venture aren't easily fulfilled.

His lips create numbness,
a too familiar emptiness,
causing me to wish,
wish for delicate skin,
with blushing cheeks,
and a sugary tongue.

To fool myself into liking his bristles,
wanting his hardened skin,
yearning his largeness,
exciting my heart over his pointed genitals,
tis all foolishness,
for my mind truly desires a specific form.

Dare I look back at my deluded state,
attempting to convince myself to believe it was true,
true to my heart, true to my eye’s wants,
sorrow comes upon me when I regret,
regret my false affection.

Wasteful I was of time,
my coward like ways pulled me away,
away from proper love,
my spirit strewn from my body,
when with him,
thus becoming a meaty unit,
wandering on these fruitless streets.

Unchained and alone,
rope torn without warning,
lonely and confused,
time slowly progressing,
but with months my dormant needs push through,
through the wild shrubs,
covered in thorns,
frustratingly slathered in tar,
causing me to inconsistently attend to the mess,
the mess that is my heart’s desire.

But all along in my knotted brain,
it was her,
her foreign lips I wished to contact,
to travel through her tender crevasses,
dote her seraphic body,
and be doted on with her gentle fingertips,
unhealthily wanting to ravish her plumpness,
diving into to every bit like a spoon to a delicate custard,
her body frighteningly beautiful,
as is her mind oddly more intriguing,
though misfortune struck mercilessly in my life,
due to the wasted time,
I’m stuck here waiting for this fantasy,
even the innocent elements,
to present themselves in my reality.

[arbil_poieo]

Oh my!
My first thought is the narrator is a woman that is not happy with her man because she wants to be with a woman. I could be wrong but I blame the distracting images.

You have a lot of different images describing conflict of longing but scared to get what what the narrator truly wants. It really allows the reader to sympathize and understand the emotions.

A lot of great lines. The only criticism I can offer is maybe cutting out the extras such as "wandering on these fruitless streets" " the mess is that is my heart's desire" just anything that seems redundant or that doesnt add anything to the overall feeling.

I really enjoyed reading this from start to finish.

[shotknot]

Your first thought is correct! I plan on trimming this poem so it can be less messy with all the extras, thanks for your criticism and kind comments.