Savage Meeting



You drive me to want to look you in the eye with a primal challenge when  meeting you for the first time across the dark forest floor in the dead of night.

Your body bathed in the meager light of a crescent moon, wrapping around your delicate frame, yet I sense there is nothing delicate about you.

The cold doesn’t quite touch you fully. The night entreats your presence…you belong here…you have always belonged here.

The night is a comfort to me as well, my senses  focused. You shine  in the meager light. I see a nobility in you, a raw wildness , pure in its essence distilled before me , running like a river as you stand there.

Laying down on our backs naked on the ground,  shoulder to shoulder,  all senses attuned, to the night, to ourselves,
to each other…

Nothing needs to be said as we are wrapped in the comfort of it all.

I smell you , almost most tasting you with the tip of my tongue, from deep in your core, it calls.

I don’t ask as I force your legs open and take what’s mine now and forever as you look at the stars above as a cool wind hardens your nipples to points in the night air.

I will never surrender your body pleasures until you shudder and explode within my grasp, until you are sated fully and surrender them to me..

I want more of you this night …bite me, claw me, lose yourself in the nature of me, my wildness for you is pure and freely given.

You have me in full as my nature demands it , I please you while you do the same…leaving you spent and sore,  scratched by the forest floor with its branches and rocks cutting us as we take each other in good measure.

In the end, we look to be half feral, at the end I shall give you your first kiss as I will truly know you then in truth.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2017

The Me you See


 

The me you see, is just a pale umbra of whom I’m supposed to be.

I’ve come to  a wall and I can’t make the jump,

I try and I try and just bounce the hell off.

But what I really don’t know is that I’m just a toad in the road

and it’s just a small curb on a street.

It’s a cliff so sheer and high that it’s a trick to belie the eye.

I tell myself one more jump…kerplunk!

My little toad head hurts like hell from all the bashing

against the wall.

If I can just find that perfect crack to start me on my crawl to wind my way up.

But that would require luck…fuck!

Where the hell am I going to get any of that?

So I’m a toad.

Not a frog a princess can kiss

to relieve me of this predicament.

Sorry, no frog underneath this frog-like veneer miss.

But I will be the prince of toads one day.

Fuck the frog I say!

So I look for that crack in the wall,

no matter how small,

to eventually make my way

up and over.

To that other me

that I don’t yet see,

The Prince of Toads,

in all of his bumpy

brown glory.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2017

Seeing You


If I were a blind man
and had only a touch
to trace a picture of you
I would kiss you first
as I made a joke
My lips against yours
along with a feather stroke
of my hand against
a fully rounded cheek
I would be in that smile
as I breathed your
essence in.
A flock of goosebumps
springing up upon your skin.
as a fingertip slowly just ever so
traveled down a
shoulder and arm to
trembling hands
in anticipation of
wants to come.
Your body leaning in
your curves filling into
the niche of me.
A puzzle complete.
Heat transfers
Coalescing
Two minds mingling
You are a picture
complete.
with other eyes
that have always
seen you.

by  Philip Wardlow 2017