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Almost There

Call me baby
Text me if you want to
Let me know you’re ready
For me

Can you feel me on the stair
Hear me climbing
Up the darkness
Rising to your need?

Text me baby
Call me
Tell me what you want
From me

Are you waiting in the easy chair,
Or are there rose petals
Strewn across the floor
To our waiting bed?

Call me baby
Text me now
Pursue your pleasure
On me

Will you beg my love,
Shudder in the graze of skin
Demand my tongue, my thrusts
And pull me down into your ecstasy?

Call me baby
Text me
All you want and need,

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 


title and a glance at the phone-sex market? The pseudo rhyme and the pattern reflects the mood of such a phone-call-thing. The beginning is of a customer that knows what they want and the ending; the caller being dominated by the receiver. [They way I see it]. I like the idea of using the warning that this is Adult, Erotic, and you are free to use it anytime you feel the need, but I didn't think it was necessary this time. I do believe that it is well within the limits of decency. ~ Gee.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

till foreplay maybe

sexiness forgets
experience speaks
you can't be naive

if you don't have the music, show it to someone who has. It's where the money is too!

Based on your reading list you know what poetry is. Good lyrics are equally important to me as poetry, and I'm not passing judgement. I can't write them.
But there is a difference, like between watercolor and oil painting. Lyrics are transparent and easy, with repetitions, and catchy phrases...often about getting together to do the nasty...poetry..well as Dorianne Laux: put it “All poetry is preparation for death” (not quite true, but somewhat)

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

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