Morning brings no

As your slender fingers
part the files of strangers
catalog the fruits of excess
in a dimly lit room
you remember how I parted you
just last night

Strangers enter your office
You smile, exchange pleasantries
all the while your thoughts never
from the way I entered you
just last night

Beneath your desk
your hand remembers

with your fingers against your clit
you trace a recently traveled road
one that I forged
with tongue
and breath
and words
of fire

~ by Jacque on May 3, 2011.

6 Responses to “Fire”

  1. simply & utterly gorgeous. sensuality to the max

  2. gulp. mmMmmmm… please consider writing or submitting one of your previously poemed
    work of arts to my new zine: white curtains – the only requirement is that the poem is
    not over 7 lines.
    send to my email:, merci.

  3. I love this poem. It is so sensual and sexy. Good job!

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