© 2013 by Kirk Griffith


she lay splayed as a feast before a King

roped and ready to be consumed as a Thing


his hand trekking across her exposed vibratory flesh

comes to rest awhile on the breast nearest her heart


no matter how hard he tries

he cannot shake the soulfulness

of her softly beautiful vulnerability


his silent philosophical personhood debate

is suspended to make way for her sensuality



he will

take her

where she

wants to go

and lovingly

deeply further


he perceives all sides of her unique need desire

as she reeling teeters on the brink of annihilation


the moon does not Bleed

a stone sheds no Tears


Used with permission of the author. Thank you!

By my Gaelic Court Poet


We pull for our Queen, our precum inducer,

we pull and we lick and we rub.

We wank for our Queen - Cock magnet-seducer,

We bow down to our Queen and one Love,

We tug on our heads, we're made so much juicier,

As you spread out your legs and you tease,

We let go and moan, and shoot off our loads,

All hail to our Queen on our knees.

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