Ripple Effect
Our lust is too much to contain
Our union is so strong
We make other couples cum
Sending erotic reverberating waves through the streets
Whenever our lips meet
Creating contact highs with our vibe
Because its too much to contain in our bedroom
And she doesn’t mind sharing
Or if others are staring
When our souls meets
Skin to skin, her and me
We explore our personal pleasures
And discover unfounded treasures
That can only be described as multigasms...
When she touches me, the world stands still
And she has total control of my will
To please her and fill her empty spaces with my fulfillment
I watch her while I caress her skin
And the color of her iris
Shatter into tiny prisms
Releasing rhythms of joyous sounds into the atmosphere
Others are forced to come closer
And ride the waves of our erotic behavior
Caught up...
In the ripple effect
🎧 From my lips to your ears…
🎤 Spit and Ink: A Live Poetry Exchange (Open Mic)
Co-hosted by The Speechless Poet & Melissa “justME” Ellis
Next event: July 8 at 8PM EST
All poets of all genres and experience are welcome.
Come for the poetry. Stay for the AfterWORDS!
AfterWORDS: Ripple Effect
The Connection That Couldn’t Be Contained
This poem is documentation, not imagination. There was a woman. Carefree, open, completely herself. And when we were together, something happened in the space around us. People would stop us in public just to ask how long we’d been together. Strangers wanted to comment on our energy, on how relaxed we were, on whatever it was we were putting into the room without trying to. We weren’t performing anything. We were just us. And apparently that was enough to make people stop and stare.
“it’s too much to contain in our bedroom”
That line is literally true. Whatever we had, it didn’t stay private. It spilled out into streets and restaurants and wherever we went. This poem is my attempt to capture what that felt like from the inside.
The Ripple Effect
The central idea is simple: two people so in sync that their connection creates waves. Not metaphorical waves. Actual energetic shifts that pull people closer, create contact highs, force the room to reorganize itself around what’s happening between two people:
“Sending erotic reverberating waves through the streets / Whenever our lips meet / Creating contact highs with our vibe”
A ripple doesn’t ask permission. It just moves outward from the source. That’s what this relationship felt like. Something that radiated without effort, touched people without intention, and left everyone in proximity a little changed by it.
The Prism Image
“The color of her iris / Shatters into tiny prisms / Releasing rhythms of joyous sounds into the atmosphere”
This image came organically while writing. And those are always the ones worth trusting. Looking into someone’s eyes and seeing genuine happiness for life is one of the most disarming things a person can experience. The iris doesn’t just reflect light. In the right person, it refracts it, breaks it into something more complex and beautiful than what went in.
That’s what her eyes did. And when a person is that full of joy, it makes sound somehow. It releases something into the air around you. That’s what I was trying to capture, and the prism was the only image that came close.
Multigasms
“That can only be described as multigasms”
This word only works if the poem earns it. And by the time you arrive here, it does. The connection has been established, the waves are already moving outward, and suddenly we need a word for what happens when two people reach that level of physical and emotional synchronicity simultaneously.
“Multigasms” is both playful and precise. It’s also very Poerotica. Willing to name exactly what’s happening without apology or decoration.
Why This Belongs in Poerotica
Most of the catalog explores desire in its complicated forms. The wanting, the longing, the ache of absence, the impossible connection. This poem is different. This one is about desire fulfilled, connection achieved, two people so aligned that the world around them responds to it.
“When she touches me, the world stands still / And she has total control of my will”
That’s not lust. That’s surrender. And surrender (chosen, joyful, mutual) might be the most intimate thing Poerotica has explored yet. This poem belongs here because it answers a question the catalog has been circling: what does it look like when it actually works?
Your Thoughts
Have you ever been in a connection so strong that other people felt it too? Where strangers commented on your energy, or you could feel the room shift when you walked in together? What does it feel like to be that in sync with another person?
Drop a comment. Let’s talk about the connections that ripple outward.
If you enjoyed this, you might also like:
It’s Complicated - When the connection is undeniable but the circumstances aren’t
One Last Time - Holding onto a prefect physical connection when everything else is falling apart
Off Rhythm - When someone gets so far under your skin they scramble everything
I have experienced this only once in my life and the memories still bring me joy. He set the standard I still live by when deciding if a man will be more than a casual dalliance. Few have measured up since. You captured it beautifully. ❤️🖤💚