Harvest Moon

Erotic Poetry

The cliff looms near as I stare into the ravine.. grasping, tightening, holding him to me, to my life sustaining, life creating treasure. I am his Pandora's box, his moon and stars and sky, and he is mine. Then I am falling again, landing askew on jagged rocks.Pierced, filled, his hands holding me as I am his over and over again.His to take, his to pleasure. His to use. And I am gone.