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Succubus



She slipped, alone, into my room

to moan low sighs upon my ear,

and catch me tangled in her hair,

and lull me in a sensual swoon.



I loved her softer in the night

than subtle hand, with light caress,

could stroke one leg to raise a dress

and brush a moistened inner thigh.



And as a wanton sybarite,

she pressed her body close to mine

and drank my love like warm red wine

as though to drink it fully dry.



Intoxicated with her charms,

I kissed, and kissed, her supple breasts,

till languished in quiescent rest,

I lingered long within her arms.



I composed this poem around 1984, which will set the gears in some minds whirring, but don't read too much into the date or the narrative "I."





author unknown