I dream of leathered men, I dream of you, touching me, ******* me, loving me.
Hold me in your clutch, dominate me, make me yours.
Your voice like velvet, and your body like diamond.
Cut me, mark me, I am your canvas.
I am your art.
The cruelest artist with a delicate touch.
I beg of you.
I whimper in pleasure.
More please.
"Be a good boy for me" "yes sir" on my knees. Complete submission.
Take me to space.
Make me forget all that came before you.

I brush your spine with my fingertips
I kiss the lines that lead to your treasure chest
I rest in the enigma, I rest in your charisma
Waiting to explore your oceans
Can't resist you, your gaze has me frozen
frozen in the moment, velvet kisses on your mind like a poet
lean into it, lean into the moment

Blue velvet flowers
born prisoners in the window
listen to your delicious
candy secrets and
breath them to the universe

You are haunted by
perfume and concrete
slow, lingering kisses
and the salt of her
soft wet lips

Mysterious night
Soft and heavy with promise
A velvet hammer!

once I was a waning crescent, pale and thin—incomplete
a silver sliver of light peeking unwanted in between the
folds of the velvet, midnight sky

and now, having gazed at my sun from a world away, I
am whole—I am full and complete—grand designs,
imperfections, craters—making me no less whole

when you are near it is not you that completes me,
but rather you who illuminates the parts of me I
thought were lost forever

the paradox that you both do and do not complete me
brings me as much comfort as the sun’s warm rays
on my cheeks and the moon’s cool gaze on my back.

her fingertips leave
velvet kisses
across his skin,
wiping the tears
that escape
with her palms.

nothing can compare
to such
a lover’s material.

i am Orpheus in the clouds
playing clown for the masses.

i'm half of the shaft of light
breaking mosaically into
millions of pieces across the kitchen floor.

i'm a smoky chandelier swaying with
the bravado of a censure on high-holy-day.

i'm the royal velvet lining your blood.

i am a poem, without reason, read to you
by a stranger.

i am 200 tons of cracked granite one thousand
feet above you splitting off from the face of
the mountain.

but more so than any of that,

i'm a peculiar kind
of nothing

typing words onto
screens before
i die.