The Hephaestiad

Well, I guess this is a sort of a cover reveal, really, but I’m posting mainly for the purposes of seducemesunday which, this week, is all about sight, image etc. I’m going to double post it to sinful sunday too, cos I’m a tart like that.

The main image is of my current cover work-up for a volume of poetry I’m publishing on Amazon (once I figure out some glitches!) and these two inline images are the sketch I worked it up from, and the finished work sans titles etc.

I’ve finished up with one of the poems, which is quoted on the cover, and is called “Change Up”.

 

 

nymphsatyrs

Change Up

I remember it so clearly
The growing change in you,
The happy frantic lustfulness
Which with the Spring-time grew.
We’d become somewhat desultory
In our bedroom sport
I’d roll to you off-handedly
And we’d rut, with little thought
A few simple variations
On the classic, sidelong spoon
At odd hours in the morning
And only in that room.

But Spring arrived and with it
Came this short move down the road
To this house that’s homely
A change worth a sum of gold.
And with it much more easiness
Between us and our lives
An increase in our touching
And a return to idle smiles.
The new bedroom was larger
And in the mornings full of sun
That gilded us with loveliness
And rewoke our sense of fun.

And then one chatty evening
I was chopping spuds for tea
You were sitting at the table
And you stood and said to me:
“I’m not wearing any knickers,”
And you smoothed down your skirt
I watched your hips receding
With the sing-song swing that hurts.
You lay down on the sofa
And I knelt right by
And with careful folds I slowly
Worked your skirt along your thigh.

And so by steady, even, inches
I saw you’d spoken true
As I exposed the treasures
Of that subtlest part of you.
The dark and curling covers
Parted silk beneath my thumbs
I pressed and nuzzled, split you,
And I fell to, with my tongue.
You arched and bucked and wriggled
And you choked and swallowed cries
And I marvelled at the savour
Of the pinks between your thighs.

You ground yourself into my face
Clenched tight about my fist
And with muttered imprecations
Tore at my hair, and hissed
“Take me upstairs now and fuck me”
So I did just what you said
And we rattled upstairs merrily
You threw me down upon our bed.
And you gripped me with your fingernails
With your eager teeth and mouth
And you bled me in your eagerness.
You marked me as yours for life.

 

Keep sinning beautiful idiots xx

12 thoughts on “The Hephaestiad

  1. Indigo says:

    I especially love the colour image. The greens, creams and corals work beautifully together.
    And it was rather breathtaking following the movement up her thighs, I loved the idea of folding the skirt up slowly…
    Indie xx

  2. Posy Churchgate says:

    I love the image, rather fecund like the pottery figures Cher kept making in Witches of Eastwick! The poem too is very pleasant (sorry not a poetry buff – but I like that I didn’t have to decipher too hard!) Lots of luck with your poetry collection – you deserve success in recognition of your skill with words.

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