Sonnet 69

Posted on Updated on

69

So now I reached the age of full consent.
My tongue at last can flutter on some clit —
her mouth a scabbard for my sword (her scent
will make me drunk with love, I must admit).

Until that day, the numbers don’t perform
to make that “three-six-oh” degree design.
But when it comes, there’ll be a thunderstorm
and on each other’s love-juice we will dine.

For cunnilingus is no common word.
Fellatio is equally obtuse.
Now, one year short of seven-oh, I’m stirred
to find some willing darling to seduce.

The time to make those body-parts align
is surely at the age of sixty-nine!

 

© Alan Morrison, 2018

One thought on “Sonnet 69

    Makoa said:
    March 3, 2018 at 1:21 am

    That’s epic!

    On Fri, Mar 2, 2018 at 4:19 PM, The Naked Troubadour wrote:

    > thenakedtroubadour posted: ” So now I reached the age of full consent. My > tongue at last can flutter on some clit — her mouth a scabbard for my sword > (her scent will make me drunk with love, I must admit). Until that day, the > numbers don’t perform to make that “three-six-oh” degre” >

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s