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Ann's Favorite Quote

“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”
~ John Lennon

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“Ann Cory enthralls, delights, and overwhelms
with sensuality that is scorching.”
Two Lips Reviews

Poetry by Ann Cory

Top Ten Finisher -Poet of the Year 2006
Predators & Editors

Bound Desire

Layers of pale,
wet with desire,
lavishly bound
in ribbons of
gold and silver,
awaiting the promise
of a kiss.
Under boughs of
holly and sprigs
of mistletoe,
beneath the pine-scented
tree bedecked
in jewels,
I impatiently wait
for Christmas morning
as you unwrap the
most unselfish gift
I could ever give.
The gift of myself
to cherish always
and forever.

 

 

 

My Lamia

Two precious holes
One moon we live under
Our beings unite
As you surrender

I drink in your life
An essence so strong
A daughter of night
To me you belong

Your blood runs smooth
Like silk in my veins
Revitalized, renewed
Scarlet-kissed stains

Come walk with me
From the sun we will hide
Feeding together
My Latin bride
April Showers

Warm rain shatters twilight silence,
a kaleidoscope of images
glide down windowpanes,
as your ruby lips follow suit.
Butterfly wings travel along dewy trails,
fluttering among kiss-stained skin,
in time to the parting of dormant thighs,
seeking renewal, rejuvenation.
Where your tongue dwells
I emerge liberated, cleansed,
and shed my inhibitions of love.

 

 

 


 


 

Composition

Fine-tuned fingers
comb through
silk raven strings;
languid palms conduct
tones and textures,
as you play my body
like an instrument.
Lips serenade
with kisses
along the glossy finish;
our duet of flawless skin,
and sinewy muscle,
draped in a melodic opus
of velvet candlelight.

 

Part Man, Part Musk

I dare not stir.
Your side of the bed
is still warm,
the memory of our passion
still thrusting away
inside my mind.
The tick of the clock
is my companion
until you return home
and love away the hours.
Slowly I roll to my stomach.
My arms about your pillow,
inhaling your intoxicating aroma;
part man, part musk.
Driving me to part woman,
part wildcat,
as my hands drift
between my thighs
simulating your lips,
your mouth.
Bringing me to dizzying heights.
My pelvis grinds
against the illusion of you
until the storm brews
fierce inside.
The pillow quiets
the screaming
of your name
as the eye of the storm
comes to pass.
I will wait where I am
until your warmth
resides next to me
and fills me up.
Until then
I have my fantasies
of my part man,
part musk
to whet my appetite.
 
  Mosaic

Translucent flesh
swept with
feathery wisps
of paintbrush tongues,
upon a flawless canvas
of afterglow.
The sensual ballet
beneath ivory sheets,
where my masterpiece
straddles atop
love-soaked contours.
Brazen fingers rove along
supple, lithe limbs,
lost in the
silhouette that is you.
  Fondue

Warm strands of chocolate
trickle from a spoon
Spiraling and
glazing bodies
in sugary decadence.
Fervent tongues
pave the way
along silken passages
tasting sweet nectar
with each voracious lick.
Bodies press together,
swirling like pinwheels
as the sinful confection
streaks down writhing thighs,
pooling in the aftermath
of lust.
 
 

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