Erotic Poetry by Womxn
My dua is love
i am learning that the desire is not dirty. that i need not pray myself clean.
that shame
need not shove me to my knees
forehead to zameen
to bring me closer to my deen
my dua is love
my dua is love
it pours pure like zamzam
through my body
through her body
through my body
through her body
we are holy.
we are holy in liquid sighs and sweat soaked skin.
i cannot tell where she ends and i begin
as love interweaves through estuaries of limb
in this tapestry of brown
this is not a sin.
instead a call to prayer
it is a call to prayer
whenever my name leaves her lips with devotion
i know that god is here
whenever i am in her presence
i know that god is here.
Sanah Ahsan @psychology_and_poetry
SLUT
Slut…
Damn, that word burns…
How can one utter something so vile?
Slut. Monosyllabic, I wish they knew that
They sound so infantile.
The variety and creativity in Collins’ dictionary
Seemingly offers no limitations, yet your
Vocabulary appears to be at a halt because
You only have one word:
Slut
You use this, you dart this at me
As though it is a spear and I am a boar
In the battle field and one pierce through my
Flesh and you have broken me, you
Have won
But I have thrown that same spear and it freely
Rolls off my tongue
Your iron words won’t choke me I
Won’t let you rope me or tie me to anything
That you think is linked with that word:
Slut
You use it like it is my name, open your mouth
Go on, BOLDLY proclaim
SLUT!
What, you want me meek?
A face red with shame,
You refer to me as slut but damn it that is
NOT my name
You whisper around me, you mutter and creep
Ten men and one pussy,
Gosh she’s such a fucking freak!
All of these words, circulating me
With the expectation that they are my
Kryptonite
Like I won’t be going out tonight, out looking for
Eleven tonight, hell, I might even bump into Twelve and
Thirteen on the way!
Slut.
I wish that word had more impact, I wish I could be
Ashamed.
Slut.
The original name on my birth certificate erased,
Identity eradicated and altered
Because I am evidently sex crazed
Do her parents know?
She ought to be ashamed,
I am sure she is like her mother, Yes
The man oughtn’t be blamed.
Yes, blame my mother for my ravishing looks that
Make me an appealing lover.
Blame my mother for my ample breasts,
A body so perfect, it’d be a sin not to undress.
Slut.
Anonymous
You will turn to rain
I want to stretch you out like muscle
After exercise
I want to feel the tendons
Relax and release you
Some days,
I want to tear
You, tendon and all,
From my hamstring
I want to shed you like old leather
Like skin which crisps and falls
Which turns to dust in this sun
Which floats
Like the fluff of a moth
As it goes to die on a doorframe
I will scratch you off
Like dead skin from the
Palms of my hands
I will yawn you out
And stretch you like an ache
Itch you from my kneecap
And sweat you,
In this London heat,
From each of my pores
It will rain you, above us,
And I will listen to you beat on the windows
Georgia Mitchell @_georgiamitchell
Before Digby
I’m pierced between my legs
between my teeth, too
but my feet don’t arch like they used to
oh little clean boy
little green boy
You know more than before
and you suck me slower than a funeral hymn
I am ill now.
Body heavy with disease, I contemplate death and it all seems so peripheral to me and i squeeze out a new life, I feared my approach would be too quick for a birth, even just a little birth.
Reddening my eyelids
belly big on needle bones
rickety rhythm muttering patois
in my head and perhaps beneath my flanks
dizzied by the sea
for days on end
skin salty and bruised
by you
can we die fishing?
can we find scales for the sea?
Beri Allen-Miller @beriallenmiller
I left that room
Echoes fly
Walked away
And chose to hide
Obsessed
Longed
Dreamed
And sighed.
Bridie O’Sullivan @bridieosullivan_
Kat Hudson @kathudson_