Photograph by Baxter Jackson |
|
DARK LOVE
By David Iribarne Something sexy about showering in the dark, having your hands touch every inch of my body. Naked skin touching. Lips moist every time they kiss my breast, smooth every time they move slowly down my forehead to my cheeks, my neck. Something electric about your body being that close to mine in the blackness. I am able to light a fire within you as I trace every inch of your body with my fingers. It almost feels sinister as I hear you moan and scream but then ask for more. I can smell you. I can taste you. I love having to search you out, find out what I love most about you. Being able to go over parts of you over and over just to find the spot you and I love most. No words spoken, just love. I know there’s something sexy about showering with you in the dark and I know that there is something forever beautiful about loving you blindly. SECOND HONEYMOON By David Iribarne That night you swam naked in the pool. street lights illuminated your body making its shadow ripple within the water. You were so erotically beautiful as you lifted your arms above your head stretching them to touch the sky. I imagined heavenly creatures were watching you as was I. Watching you in the cold water stroking your smooth breasts your hands went down to your navel then to your sweet spot and down your thigh making waves in the water. You closed your eyes as you put your hand out towards me as if you were handing me a sexy gift. The water dripped from your body making you glisten. No more could I watch from afar. I moistened my skin bare with the pool's body. I swam close to you. I was so drawn to you. I took a deep breath closed my eyes and made fantasies about us. My hands traveled down to your hips and you laughed as I tickled your love handles. This is what you and I craved. This was our sexy movie This is what gave us goose bumps. This is what had been missing from our bedside table. I'M NOT YOUR TYPICAL WOMAN By David Iribarne I'm not your typical woman. I drive a four wheel truck with massive wheels. I own two rifles and a glock. I have been known to attend a baby shower in a cowboy hat. I spend my time hunting out in the water knee deep mud on my leather heeled boots which I remind you are only pair of heels I own. I love hunting different prey waterfowl, ducks, rabbits and if a bear crosses my path no doubt I will not bat an eye. I will shoot it too and use their coat to decorate my living room. Many men wonder what gets me going. Well let me tell you, it ain't flowers or a box of chocolates rather, it's watching big burly men grunt and hit one another with their fists. If you want to get my engine revved full throttle then put on some WWF with Hulk Hogan And Macho Man Savage pile driving and putting one another in a suplex. Yep, now my mouth is watering. I'm a woman with spunk I listen to punk. On any given day I will sling out profanity and kick off my shoes sit on the couch with my legs open and mouth open breathing loud. I don't like wine that's a pussy drink give me Jamison straight suddenly I will let out a big smile from ear to ear. The way to my heart is to give me bullets not diamonds. Yep, that will get you on my good side. Hell, join me on the range and I may even wear a ring that ties us together forever. So now you know, I am not your typical woman The way to win my heart is to attack everyday with guns ablazing and know that I cannot be tamed.  David Iribarne earned a Bachelor of Arts in English from California State University at Sacramento and currently resides in Sacramento. His work has been published in Poetry Now, Tule Review, Susurrus, Catchword, Medusa’s Kitchen, Primal Urge, WTF, the anthology Late Peaches: Poems by Sacramento Poets, the play River City Anthology performed at California Stage, and the Creating Freedom exhibit on domestic violence at the California Museum. He won second prize in the Sacramento News and Review’s student poetry contest in 2005. His first book of poetry is forthcoming from Cold River Press in 2014. |
Editorial Staff | Editors' Choice
archive | links
