Post Prose The Poetry Bar


I drop pieces of me like breadcrumbs for him to follow. I think it rude of him the brevity of his stare. He will know what I mean when he reads it. This secret mystery of the heart will always call to him. He’s such a careful romantic, walking on the edge of fate, the precipice of love, and daring himself to fall, while making sure to focus, and plan with a skill that falling would be almost impossible.

I drop pieces of me like breadcrumbs, as I lay in his arms. I swear I’m thinking of something. I’m listening as he talks really I am; its not that I’m reveling. Drunk in his smell, the feel of skin. Always just the feel of his skin, his palms roving over my curves my soft hills, and buxom crevices, I moan, nauseous from the pleasure that invades my body.

How the hell does he expect me to think. In linear thought, as time is known to us, I cannot. I can only feel him, where he is, where he’s been, where to next on the paradise of my body. He makes me feel like a coveted island, longing to be explored.

I’m so weak, so weak, I feel strong and confident and immovable; a veritable monolithic symbol of us. Of joy of possibility, of gushy mushy-ness that will never fade. Of held back tomorrows, of doubts pushed down. Of hope, pure innocent hope, to never hurt again. A spell of goodwill, banish all dark clouds, let the risk of diving into the deep end reward me.

My name is Juanita Collins. I’m 37 and I live in St. Lucia in the Caribbean. I have self published two books on Amazon. A creative writing journal called Inspire and a poetry ebook called Love’s Fool. I have a blog on WordPress: Butterfly Obsession. Links are below.

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