Without a stimulant of intent,
I’ve discovered a familiar hint
of beaming sparks, radiant
within my belly. Hushed consent
is gifted with fingers on decent,
circling provoked segments
to wet the remaining percent.
I feel myself until untold events
leave minute bits of evidence
on fingers and linens. Spent,
that initial piece of stimulant
diffuses into fading remnants
of sensational, joyous content.
I lay back down, as if to rest,
yet I am lost in my own exuberance,
ready to repeat my fingers’ descent.
Lyndsie Conklin is a Montanan transplanted to Colorado, living with her husband and cat, Beans. She enjoys getting outside, being a cat mom, breakfast foods, Diet Coke, and (of course) writing poetry and erotic fiction. Lyndsie attempts to find romance, beauty, and darkness hidden within the little things while highlighting these little, gross beauties within complex, current topics, such as mental health and LGBTQ+ and women’s issues. Lyndsie holds a Bachelor of Arts in English from Western Colorado University and a Masters of Education in Higher Education Administration from Post University. Some of her work has been featured in Poetry Cove Magazine, The Sleeve Magazine, and Dreamer by Night Magazine.