A single touch vibrates through me leaving warmth in its wake
A blissful alien feeling quite unexplained
Pleasure crescends to the higher climax - reaching the heights of new pleasures undiscovered and savored, energy waves pull me under
I drown in its welcoming healing heat and while you sweetly serenade my body to a musical frenzy out of heat and sweat
Holding on tight and covers grasped, flushed bodies in wake getting closer to the final task in glorious fervor
Eyes consume, hypnotize, and undress as whispers of sweet nothings and gentle caress flood all rational thoughts aside
This is a special moment especially for a virgin maiden as senses is heightened in the form of touch and many o' kiss
It's oxygen and live giving unknown energy makes my heart beat faster synchronized with superhuman senses
All burst with pleasure simply through delicate ministrations only a professional experienced lover can give
To feel such newfound pleasure without a touch makes it somehow more better when you're not here
Who am I to have your love,
To feel you deep within?
What is it to give my body to an angel?
Would it be a sin?
To look at you, I must look up
You are a monument
To think of every wasted year,
Of useless time I've spent
In every useless, wasted hour
I could've been your flame
To light a room within this tower
To be your beast to tame
Your lips are colored with fresh blood
Coursing beneath your skin's infinity
With all the glories of the peak of youth
Yet fully-blossomed masculinity
I admire all your members,
Every feature, every breath
I feel like the heart within you
Trapped within you unto death
I will be anchored in your ribcage
Steadfast pumping 'round each lung
Let me feed your brain and bones and mind
Until the second your soul from your body is sprung
I'm jealous of the gentle Breeze
She always finds a way to ruffle your hair
And every day the Sun wants to seduce you away
She watches you fervently with her heat-gilded glare
But I place myself as a sacrifice on the altar of You
I will writhe and passion-burn until my purpose is done
Until all my smoke rises and my willpower is through
'Til death parts our two bodies and into ashes I become
Never let the voice that whispers softly in your ear .
Dictate the direction of your soul.
As in his embrace you find passion but do you know truth?
Make no diffrence between the two.
For a fools logic often allows passion to blur the reallity .
For in blood promises writen agreements seem easy till the price need be paid.
Locked doors will not shield you from a end simply create your tomb .
On full moons and othet dark ocassions often there is light even within the darkness.
Did the promise not live up to the truth my dear.
Did that temptation just seem to sweet to deni .
We can ignore are nature but we are carnal animals just the same.
Death finds us empty as alone we must enter to whatever may be .
Never make promises your not willing to keep.
And so in your demise the whispers softly as they were spoken from a forgotten lovers release .
Were still lies just the same.
It is 12:17 AM.
Two lovers twist around each other.
Holding head above pillow,
Hand grazing the curve of a hip.
Lips that cannot keep from kissing and
Fingertips that trace slowly down a spine.
Breath caught in midair, tongue caught between teeth.
Some song playing in the distance but
The words don't matter, only the melody.
Hips grind to keep up, hands reach for anything,
Desperate need for one another.
The most passion they'd ever felt in one moment,
One instance, one minute of the day
Where it's okay to be greedy,
To ask for what they want because they need it.
Because it feels good, because they both have something to give.
The easiest way to be both selfish and selfless at the same time.
This has to be some kind of healing,
Some kind of holy ritual.
Lace each kiss with a prayer and a promise.
Tongue sliding along earlobe,
Goosebumps in the coldest and warmest of places.
They pull one another close, as if something is pulling them apart.
How do they squeeze so much longing into one minute?
It is 12:18 AM.
I fell in love today.
With a man I'd never met.
He had a power over me, what can I say?
Oh, he's a hero, don't you fret.
He is tall, and witty, and debonaire.
He saved me from the bandits with his flashing swordplay.
All the while the sun glinting on his hair.
Then he took me back to his castle on page 109.
When he crowned me there was so much applause the walls shook!
I cannot wait to see what happens on the next line,
because my lover and I are one on the pages of this book.
One of the many realities I have escaped to in my time.
Reading, a pleasant distraction that cultivates ones mind.
It is so deliciously good, pleasure at its prime.
The characters I've met have taught me how to love and hate, how to be cruel and to be kind.
I have won battles, and lost friends.
I have made love with Vikings, and danced with mermaids.
And it almost always makes me weep when a book ends.
Then it's back to the bookstore on one of my story raids.
I can't wait to slip between the pages.
The ink to my mind like silk to my skin.
There I will meet heroines, criminals, and sages.
Between each set of covers a new life will begin.
Flip the pages and inhale the drug.
the fine biblichor that sends my head spinning.
A fine way at the end of the day to unplug.
A new book, the best way to get me grinning.
dark and smokey and filled to the brim with a burning desire for improv and fire-
-from the fingers pulsating against the metallic strings of the bass and the sunset is a window to our fate,
so TiP-TaP-against the floor, the bench and then the door.
blow your horn inappropriately in the quiet, empty street,
allow the beat to wriggle through you like the friendliest parasite you've ever seen and.
of a lovely night
for perfection (to get it right)
let go of what you think you see
passion is what drives us, people don't want to see jazz or ballet or avant-garde indie projects by a man of an unpronounceable name: they want to see peoplebeingpassionate."so give it to them! for yourself."
beautiful film and my ode to it.
based on a true story
The arsonist invited me
into the house of love.
The floorboards creaked,
and in the rafters above
I saw the black soot stains
and where a spider had wove
its web, now dangling
in a cool breeze.
The door was still open—perhaps I should leave.
Would you like a cup of tea?
He smiled at me.
Of course, I accepted his hospitality--
then saw the light in his eye,
like a burning match glowing.
I’m sorry, I said, I must be going.
The warmth of your affection
is really quite touching. But now I feel the heat rising
and a slow burning.
Our friendly visit is turning
into a fire crackling.
I think my presence here is
some kind of kindling.
Thank you for the tea-- I’ll be
heading back to town.
If I stay here any longer, I’m afraid
we’ll burn the house down.
Love doesn't take two
I can love you all by myself
and I do...
Love doesn't take a million dollars
I can love you for free
but love is valuable...
Love doesn't take a lot of effort
I can love you easily
but it takes giving a part of yourself...
Love doesn't need a plan
I can love you with great spontaneity
but love takes passionate devotion...
Love doesn't require all your time
I can love you in the seconds of my day
but love takes a lifetime...
fell in love near
a three-pointed star,
sailing down canals
made of concrete,
she landed, on her feet,
and, where they meet,
some color out of space
cries hark and hallow,
Rebecca of green eyes,
emerald traffic lights,
lady on the make,
a giver in a town
full of ghosts