I Grew Up Too Soon, Mother
( Read in Caption )

-

Shall we build a home where time stands still,
Where windows glow with love’s soft will?
Not walls of stone, but vows and sighs,
A roof that shelters star-kissed skies.

Let’s plant our days in gardened grace,
Where every corner holds your face.
The scent of you in morning’s light,
Your breath the fire in velvet night.

Will you lay your dreams beside my own,
Two hearts, one rhythm, fully grown?
No riches sought, no throne, no gold—
Just fingers laced in promises told.

So come, beloved, take my hand,
Let’s craft a world where we both stand—
A quiet place, just you and me…
Where love becomes our destiny.

-

Daddy's Princess
(Read in Caption)

-

Desire rose between his thighs,
His beast aroused, tall and wise.
I bowed, not out of shame or guilt,
But hunger for the heat he built.

My mouth, a rite; my hands, the flame,
He groaned as I invoked his name.
A scepter thick, divine and slick,
I worked to taste his heavy release.

He spilled like sin across my face,
A pious mess, a holy grace.
And in that silence, raw and deep,
Desire knelt where peace would sleep.

-

In The Mirror
(Read In Caption)

-

When love begins to quietly bloom,
A melody that fills the room.
Romantic tunes float through the air,
A happiness beyond compare.

The heart beats steady, yet so deep,
In moments, joy begins to leap.
A smile that lingers, uninvited,
A completely new expression, delighted.

The world around, a gentle shift,
The colors brighter, moods uplift.
The air feels sweeter, the sun more warm,
Everything feels right, like a perfect storm.

In the mirror, a change is found,
A sense of style that’s more profound.
Every glance, each thought, a kiss,
In love, the world feels pure bliss.

-

Someone, hiding behind an unknown name, is harassing me on YourQuote by creating fake IDs to leave hurtful comments on my Poem and at my quote . This behaviour is unacceptable, and I won’t tolerate it.

I write about love, desire, and deep emotions. Erotic writing is art, not shame.

Those who create fake IDs only to harass female writers and provoke, rather than engage in art, cannot undermine the purpose behind my words. I write with honesty and courage, and that will remain unchanged.

All I ask is for respect — for erotic writers, and for all women who write on this platform, sharing their hearts and voices.

-

Her tits, twin gods of sacred grace,
Sway like sin in satin lace.
Velvet curves one longs to taste,
Bare and proud in candle’s waste.

Her beauty strains to breach the seam,
A living, breathing, sacred dream.
Her divine chest defies the thread,
Too wild for cloth, too full for dread.

A goddess made to make men plead,
Her nipples bloom like blades in need.
She moans—and even stars stand still,
His flesh obeys her every will.

-

What is love, if not a sweet ache?
A longing that time cannot break.
Like stories told in old love songs,
I wish to drift where the heart belongs.

No quick embrace, no fleeting kiss,
But a love that’s deep, full of bliss.
I dream of waiting, with endless grace,
To see your smile, to touch your face.

In every tear, in every sigh,
I’ll wait for you, no matter why.
For true love is not found so fast,
It’s in the moments that forever last.

-

Wait for me, love, not long now,
I’ll find my way to you somehow.
We’ll run from clocks, from crowded streets,
To where the sky and silence meet.

No one else, just us alone,
A quiet place to call our own.
No past, no plans—just what we feel,
A love so raw, so deep, so real.

-