Baking You, My Cake
breaking my eggs into a bowl
life-force within yellow yolks
whipping up to a frenzy
then
adding you, sugar
ever so slightly as
the beater froths
you are smooth and creamy
yes you are and you know it
staring up at me
i begin to fold
the sifted flour with extra spice
the not so vanilla essence
pure of course and never imitation
because i know that’s what you like
you want it from me always
i coat the tin with
my buttery goodness
pour you in
spooning gently
slide you into my
hot oven
baking you my cake
spying through the glass
breathing heavily
watching you rise
ever so slowly
Androgynous
crossing the line
into
the androgynous zone
you come from winter
touching my nipples
with cold hands
they get hard and erect
from the femme softness
of your
tantalising voice
alluring sensual sway
cool fingers sliding in and out
of hot springs wetness
tongue salivating
against
my tiny girl-cock
pleasure centre
ejaculating
i touch your virility
that upright
prodigious beast
and draw out the female
from you
suck
the life-giving elixir
from the purple veins
my mouth on your bosom
we are duality
but we are one
seeing into each other
becoming each other
Going Deeper
go deeper
snake-like
inside me
deeper
into my soul
to the red hot epicentre
of the volcano
you have created
probe deeper
smoothly intently
through my lithosphere
a cool layer
of reason and rationality
circumvent my boundaries
of knowledge and wisdom
but then
penetrate me harder
deeper than anyone before
in in in
to my asthenosphere
where i’m
fiery irrational
liquid lust
burn me up
scorch me
torch me
explode in me
give birth
to my molten lava
Biography
Evie Wood is a lover and writer of poetry, songs, plays, living in the island state of Tasmania, Australia. Writing with (hopefully) a sense of humour exploring with subtle irony and tongue in cheek mischief the oh-so-serious business of s-e-x: the accelerator that drives the human race to ultimate pleasure. We are but primal beings with an innate urge that mostly cannot be denied. In a sentence, I guess I would sum up by saying, “I believe in telling it like it is; let not our desires be cloaked with coyness, but laid bare in honesty and in whatever your version is of sensuality, lust, and longing.”