52 Super Sexy Poems To Get You in the Mood Tonight

ICYMI: The art of seduction requires so much more than eggplant emojis and “U up?” texts. And while that may have been a legit tactic to have sex not too long ago, if you really, really want to impress someone, it’s all about the romantic gestures.

Enter: Sex poems.

Hear me out because I know it sounds like the cheesiest thing ever. Just think about it, though: By sending your person a sexy poem, you can literally get foreplay started all with your words. (And who doesn’t like to stimulate someone’s mind before their genitals?)

Plus, whether you’re trying to seduce a new dating app match, reignite an old flame with an ex, or keep the romance alive with your partner, the sexual poems are like The Move for not only heating up the moment, but also seeming like you actually paid attention in high school literature class. (Win-win.)

Basically, consider poems to be the sexy, surprising thing your sex life didn’t know it needed.

So to help, we’ve curated a list of the hottest poems. Write these bbs down on a piece of paper and put it in your person’s coat jacket, or text it to them randomly one afternoon.

The key to revving up your own sexual desire starts here:

1.“Calloused fingertips trace the silhouettes of smooth, contrasting thighs. They navigate rounded hips with familiar fascination. Inhalations whisper of longing. The breaths catch… while fingers orchestrate an exhaled symphony of moans.” — “Sultry Sunday” by L.M.

2. “I wrote poems inside of her with my fingers. Our story began with her scream. And ended with her soul on my lips.” — “Inside” by A. A.

3. “Once in civics class, he touched my blouse like it was a page he wanted to turn. For a second, I went transparent, lightheaded: a whiff of helium or ether, a sheet of tracing paper or a tea leaf; slight as the exhalation it takes to say my name.” — “The True Bride” by Amy Gerstler

4. “These are the lips, powerful rudders pushing through groves of kelp, the girl’s terrible, unsweetened taste of the whole ocean, its fathoms: this is that taste.” — “That Mouth” by Adrienne Rich

5. “Wild nights – Wild nights! Were I with thee/Wild nights should be/Our luxury! Futile – the winds – to a Heart in port – Done with the Compass – Done with the Chart! Rowing in Eden – Ah – the Sea! Might I but moor – tonight – In thee!” — “Wild Nights” by Emily Dickinson

6. “I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.” — “Love Sonnet XI” by Pablo Neruda

8. “We aligned mouths. We entwined. All act was clutch, All fact contact, the attack and the interlock Of tongues, the charms of arms. I shook at the touch Of his fresh flesh, I rocked at the shock of his cock. Straddling my legs a little I inserted his divine Person between and closed on it tight as I could. The upright warmth of his belly lay all along mine. Nude, glued together for a minute, we stood.” — “The Platonic Blow” by Wystan Hugh Auden

9. “So fierce is the passion that burns within my heart, a raging forest fire, unstoppable and consuming.” ― “Untitled” by Michael Faudet

10. “Wilde ones, let us forgive the bitter pill delivered with each finger shoved down. Forgive tasting Judas. Forgive nothing. Here is the bed, dark like a true beginning. We all enter the body alone and only once. We do not get to stay.” — “Prayer in Hell’s Kitchen” by Alex Dimitrov

11. “Lady, i will touch you with my mind. Touch you and touch and touch until you give me suddenly a smile, shyly obscene.” — “xvii” by E.E. Cummings

12. “Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle, and even your breasts smell of it. While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies. I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth. How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running. So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the gray light unwind in turning fans. My words rained over you, stroking you. A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body. I go so far as to think that you own the universe. I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.” — “Every Day You Play” by Pablo Neruda

14. “You came to the side of the bed and sat staring at me. Then you kissed me—I felt hot wax on my forehead. I wanted it to leave a mark: that’s how I knew I loved you. Because I wanted to be burned, stamped, to have something in the end— I drew the gown over my head; a red flush covered my face and shoulders. It will run its course, the course of fire, setting a cold coin on the forehead, between the eyes. You lay beside me; your hand moved over my face as though you had felt it also— you must have known, then, how I wanted you. We will always know that, you and I. The proof will be my body.” ― “The Encounter” by Louise Gluck

15. “At first I cannot even have a sheet on me, anything at all is painful, a plate of
 iron laid down on my nerves, I lie there in the 
air as if flying rapidly without moving, and
 slowly I cool off—hot,
 warm, cool, cold, icy, till the 
skin all over my body is ice
 except at those points our bodies touch like
 blooms of fire.” — “After Making Love In Winter” by Sharon Olds

16. “She had a weakness for his hand on her neck and his words in her heart. Neither of which did she have the willpower to refuse.” — “Untitled” by JM Storm

18. “She lived for nights thick with lust and romance and wine and naked kisses.” — “Untitled” by Mason Fowler

19. “In a city made of seaweed we danced on a rooftop, my hands under her breasts. Subtracting day from day, I add this woman’s ankles to my days of atonement, her lower lip, the formal bones of her face. We were making love all evening —I told her stories, their rituals of rain: happiness is money, yet, but only the smallest coins.” — “Dancing in Odessa” by Ilya Kaminsky

20. “When I took your virginity, I did it carelessly, like a dog left alone in a butcher shop. I taught you the way adults love (quick, dry, no eye contact.) A year later, in the back of your car, you showed me what you had learned, what kind of man I had trained you to be.” — “The Bones Below” by Sierra DeMulder

21. “And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks of her dress in a strange bedroom — feels the autumn dropping its silk and linen leaves about her ankles.” — “Arrival” by William Carlos Williams

22. “You are the one I am lit for. Come with your rod that twists and is a serpent. I am the bush. I am burning I am not consumed.” — “To A Dark Moses” by Lucille Clifton

23. “The first time we made love I realized why I never prayed. One human can only say ‘Oh God’ so many times.” — “After the Witch Hunt” by Megan Falley

24. “I made love to her on paper and spilled ink like passion across the sheets. I caressed her curves in every love letter. I kissed up and down her thighs in short sentences and prose. I tasted all her innocence, without a spoken word. I bit her lip and pulled her hair, in between the lines. I made her arch her back and scream, it only took a pen.” — “Erotica” by S.T.P.

25. “Body, remember not only how much you were loved, not only the beds on which you lay, but also those desires for you that glowed plainly in the eyes, and trembled in the voice—and some chance obstacle made futile. Now that all of them belong to the past, it almost seems as if you had yielded to those desires—how they glowed, remember, in the eyes gazing at you; how they trembled in the voice, for you, remember, body.” — “Body Remember” by Constantine Cavafy

26. “When the apocalypse does come, I will rebuild our city with my tongue. I will suck this world’s ashes from your fingers. I will refuse to let the fires of this hell be the only thing that makes us sweat. When the apocalypse comes, so will we.” — “The Bones Below” by Sierra DeMulder

27. “Graze your fingers against my skin like a soldier crossing a landmine throw your kisses like grenades into the trenches of my mouth carve bullet holes onto my chest and remind me of where it hurts let your moans sound like gunfire and your breath feel like death i’ll come unarmed if you promise to destroy me make war not love?” — “Make War, Not Love” by Andrew Noske

29. “You come to fetch me from my work to-night When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see If I can leave off burying the white Soft petals fallen from the apple tree (Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;) And go along with you ere you lose sight, Of what you came for and become like me, Slave to a springtime passion for the earth. How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed On through the watching for that early birth When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, The sturdy seedling with arched body comes Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.” — “Putting in the Seed” by Robert Frost

30. “I am hypnotized. Sleepwalking to the rhythm of your words, Never wishing to wake.” — “Hypnotized” by Michael Faudet

31. “Sex has a way of softening limbs, oiling joints and melding hearts. We burrow in closer wrapping arms and legs over and under each other. Earthy blanket of sleep covers us two bodies releasing one breath. Finding home, coiled and tucked in each other’s sweat.” — “Sex Has a Way” by Wendy Lee

32. “If only he could touch her, Her name like an old wish In the stopped weather of salt On a snail. He longs to be Words, juicy as passionfruit On her tongue. He’d do anything, Would dance three days & nights To make the most terrible gods Rise out of ashes of the yew, To step from the naked Fray, to be as tender As meat imagined off The bluegill’s pearlish Bones. He longs to be An orange, to feel fingernails Run a seam through him.” — “Lust” by Yusef Komunyakaa

33. “Now let us sport us while we may; And now, like am’rous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour, Than languish in his slow-chapp’d power. Let us roll all our strength, and all Our sweetness, up into one ball; And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thorough the iron gates of life. Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.” — “To His Coy Mistress” by Andrew Marvell

34. “She was the kind of girl who loved to stretch out under the sheets, eating chocolate, reading books and f*cking on rainy afternoons.” ― “Dirty Pretty Things” by Michael Faudet

35. “License my roving hands, and let them go, Before, behind, between, above, below. O my America! my new-found-land, My kingdom, safeliest when with one man mann’d, My Mine of precious stones, My Empirie, How blest am I in this discovering thee! To enter in these bonds, is to be free; Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.” ― “To His Mistress Going to Bed” by John Donne

36. “Do you see it? No, look closer. The candle light the flame; it wants to burn and the wick, it wants to be burned. So they dance to the tune of an imperfect harmony. Do you think one day, maybe we could dance this way?” — “Untitled” by Mason Fowler

37. “When they made love Geryon liked to touch in slow succession each of the bones of Herakles’ back as it arched away from him into who knows what dark dream of its own, running both hands all the way down from the base of the neck to the end of the spine which he can cause to shiver like a root in the rain.” — “The Autobiography of Red” by Anne Carson

38. “Watch out for love (unless it is true, and every part of you says yes including the toes), it will wrap you up like a mummy, and your scream won’t be heard and none of your running will end.” — “Admonitions to a Special Person” by Anne Sexton

40. “My heart has become a broken compass. Every time I try to leave you, I always find myself running back into your arms.” ― “Bitter Sweet Love” by Michael Faudet

41. “I dream’d this mortal part of mine Was Metamorphoz’d to a Vine; Which crawling one and every way Enthralled my dainty Lucia. Me thought, her long small legs & thighs I with my Tendrils did surprize; Her Belly, Buttocks, and her Waste By my soft Nerv’lits were embrac’d: About her head I writhing hung, And with rich clusters (hid among The leaves) her temples I behung: So that my Lucia seem’d to me Young Bacchus ravisht by his tree. My curles about her neck did craule, And armes and hands they did enthrall: So that she could not freely stir, (All parts there made one prisoner.) But when I crept with leaves to hide Those parts, which maids keep unespy’d, Such fleeting pleasures there I took, That with the fancie I awook; And found (Ah me!) this flesh of mine More like a Stock, than like a Vine.” — “The Vine” by Robert Herrick

42. “Touching you I catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat I love you flesh into blossom. I made you and take you made into me.” — “Recreation” by Audre Lorde

43. “In bed this morning you tucked into the cove of my belly our feet slipping past each other like fish I reached out to embrace the flat rock of your back and carved out our names with my tongue.” — “In Bed This Morning” by T. Blagg

44. “Whatever happens with us, your body will haunt mine—tender, delicate your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond of the fiddlehead fern in forests just washed by sun. Your traveled, generous thighs between which my whole face has come and come— the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there—the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth—your touch on me, firm, protective, searching me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers reaching where I had been waiting years for you in my rose-wet cave—whatever happens, this is.” — “The Floating Poem, Unnumbered” by Adrienne Rich

45. “We lay in bed in a heap of sweaty love until the curtains stop holding the sun and light shines on two naked bodies that were strangers the night before, but young lust runs deeper than expected and sometimes a sinner meets another, and a secret is hatched that only a look into the eyes can tell.” — “Untitled” by Mason Fowler

46. “It’s whirling all around me red, then blue then yellow, then gold. So intense, I melt into it. Then I explode I climb so high. Lost in the sensation I succumb to your passionate creation. I cry out in pleasure. My body on fire I cling to your scent. Hunger feeding my desire. To taste and lick to touch, to flick I scorch a path. Along skin that is slick. You feel so good. Your body I adore. Your skin amazing I have to explore.” — “The Rapture of Us” by Rockky Bandz

47. “At the touch of you, As if you were an archer with your swift hand at the bow, The arrows of delight shot through my body. You were spring, And I the edge of a cliff, And a shining waterfall rushed over me.” — “At the Touch of You” by Witter Bynner

48. “Carry me down into that liquid place again where we meet without talking, even though sometimes we’re talking, where we laugh without making a sound, the punchlines floating off untethered and the corners of your mouth tilting up like commas around some beautiful phrase we don’t have to try to remember. Wedge your knee between my thighs and slip your fingers into me again, let them be glazed with human light and lift them to your lips, let them tell you what they found. I’ll kneel before the sunset of your skin, its pale tone beginning to blush, evenly, every cell inspired to read, pushing toward that ruddiness of purpose, that sigh. My hands will wrap around the tendons of your wrists to hold you here, lowered over me like clouds before a storm, the enormous thunder and then the rain.” — “Late Afternoon” by Molly Fish

49. “I never understood desire until I felt your hands around my throat.” ― “Dirty Pretty Things” by Michael Faudet

51. “Coming together it is easier to work after our bodies meet paper and pen neither care nor profit whether we write or not but as your body moves under my hands charged and waiting we cut the leash you create me against your thighs hilly with images moving through our word countries my body writes into your flesh the poem you make of me. ” ― “Recreation” by Audre Lorde

52. “Last night I slept, and when I woke her kiss Still floated on my lips. For we had strayed Together in my dream, through some dim glade, Where the shy moonbeams scarce dared light our bliss. The air was dank with dew, between the trees, The hidden glow-worms kindled and were spent. Cheek pressed to cheek, the cool, the hot night-breeze Mingled our hair, our breath, and came and went, As sporting with our passion. Low and deep Spake in mine ear her voice: “And didst thou dream, This could be buried? This could be sleep? And love be thrall to death! Nay, whatso seem, Have faith, dear heart; this is the thing that is!” Thereon I woke, and on my lips her kiss.” ― “Assurance” by Emma Lazarus

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Sex & Relationships – Cosmopolitan
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