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 Jun 2018 Kitt
Seán Mac Falls
.
Adam eyed Eve looking askance,
High in rush of ancient low garden,
Tempted by sun, under all is dance,
Sensate and flesh was torn, bidden.

As stems prickled in moist of garden,
Into dark soils grew blooms of youth,
In rains set free showering new Eden,
The bodies of heaven rose let loosed.

Creation dressed up in their ripeness,
Shouting louder than slithered serpent,
Adam fell drunk under moon of silence,
As Eve laid down a star burst bleeding.
.
 May 2018 Kitt
Seán Mac Falls
(Sonnet)

With looks she is keeping, so rare,
Fruitful eyes in red boughs of hair,
Hands for reaching into the winds,
Breaths gasping of new beginnings,
With looks she keeps this time at bay,
Of new days dreaming, slipped away,
Here the strung, fey huntress will go,
A flung goddess and her quivering bo,
When flowers greet the sun and wave,
In bright meadows of blossoms made,
With looks she is keeping, nows alive,
Heartwoods of longings boxed inside,
How many suitors for beauty to hold—
When gusty old age so soon enfolds?
.
 May 2018 Kitt
Seán Mac Falls
.
Lovers entered a forbidden forest bower,
And as they stalked that range, with eyes glazed,
She offered up her hind. Now, with doe eyes,
Deep as his, deep in arousal's sleep, heels fell,
As he knocked and pulled her dark honey hair
And whispered, surrender, into wanting ears,
Softly he drove his hunting command, homing
To his huntress.

Her body braced, yet bade, with heat and vibrance.
Ruthlessly, he ****** his arrow deeper and then
Once more and then again.  She bucked fiercely
And defiant, goading his prodding lance ever more
Ever longer, and parting the pink lines of her white
Rose, he was, and once again, Prince to the dark
Dominion of her quarters.

In the middle of this carnal match they paused.
And looking into the forest beyond they saw
A yearling fawn, a feral Goddess, grazing still,
Bathing in a vale, virginal, wholly unmoved
By their act of venery, lustfully playing, in the innocent
Leaves.  It was as if they were among her kin, a gentle
Doe and a noble stag. From that moment on
The human hunters did not speak.

Falling, again, rolling eyes were deep in arousal's sleep.
Her back was a crescent moon pocked and wet with dew.
He could feel her heart beating in time with his piercing
Prong, her arching back glistened in the suns spittle
As it broke through the dark and vernal ceiling wood.

In the final shot her quivering buck lowered and broke
And a sound not heard, made a scene, a sweet murmuring
Shuddered and sank onto the floor of the forest leaves
With her tale, taken and told, her breathless breath,
Her nostrils cold and her heated and lanced openings
Dripping, draining; here was a New World’s beginning.

Sated, solemn and softly quaking, his woman sweetly laid,
And now, doomed with her doe eyes, two lovers, fated, made;
She glowed, divine, like the rolling brook that mellowed
Slow, in the vine-dark and golden forest stable,
In Artemis’s wood.
.
In the classical period of Greek mythology, Artemis was often described as the daughter of Zeus and Leto, and the twin sister of Apollo. She was the Hellenic goddess of the hunt, wild animals, wilderness, childbirth, virginity and protector of young girls, bringing and relieving disease in women; she often was depicted as a huntress carrying a bow and arrows. The deer and the cypress were sacred to her.
.
 Oct 2017 Kitt
Seán Mac Falls
.
1
Wet welling from earth
Deep valleys, hills, sweating *******
I plung into her


2
We are lost at sea
In moonless night our soft cries
Curled waves drowning us


3
Above her in bed
Little breaths lifting our bodies
Eyes, fingers, dreaming


4
Her green eyes are set
Jewels from sargasso seas
My ghost ship is wrecked


5
Her long hair tangles
No struggle in rising— then
We are rapt in bed


6
Her eyes blinding me
Milky way of her body
There is a heaven


7
In forest we taste
Each other in evergreens
Hot dews on the moss


8
Blissful time kissing
My bare thighs sink into hers
Running sands so quick


9
As olive or grape
So shed, paired souls are threshed
Out of their bodies


10
Hummingbirds share truths
Nature sounds with all sweetness
Bee in the flower


11
Always in a field
Wild flowers— a bunch to pick
Herself a bouquet


12
In the park we walk
Flocks of white birds taking flight
Two hearts light as air


13
We kissed under moon
Pox of stars grew flowering
Nightshade of her lips


14
She took me to bed
Skinned in bliss— was reborn, lost
In her satin folds

.
 Oct 2017 Kitt
Seán Mac Falls
Siren
 Oct 2017 Kitt
Seán Mac Falls
.
Her languid voice
Drew me in, drooped,
And tentacle hair wrapping,
My feet fell before hers,
Sinking in the faraway lost pool,
The mortality in the sands,
And even the stars, snuffed
Out of darkness and fire
Became the light of the world,
The hushed day breaking
With welling waters and salt.
How can dream be lived,
Within dream?  Must I swear
As I fall into bliss?
 Aug 2017 Kitt
Seán Mac Falls
.
Adam eyed Eve looking askance,
High in rush of ancient low garden,
Tempted by sun, under all is dance,
Sensate and flesh was torn, bidden.

As stems prickled in moist of garden,
Into dark soils grew blooms of youth,
In rains set free showering new Eden,
The bodies of heaven rose let loosed.

Creation dressed up in their ripeness,
Shouting louder than slithered serpent,
Adam fell drunk under moon of silence,
As Eve laid down a star burst bleeding.
 Aug 2017 Kitt
Brenda Mukisa
When your the only dark skinned person in your house.
Its hard for others to see that its okay.
That its beautiful as well.
Its weird how people attach beauty to color.
Light skinned this, lighter skin that.
They make it the must be.

Not that it isn't beautiful.
But we have got to look at darker different.
Dark can be beautiful.
Darker even more beautiful.
I've seen beauty in all colors.
Like in all shapes.

You walk down the street over the weekend.
You fall in love with Africa.
All you will see is beautiful women.
Different heights, different shapes...
Handsome men...they come in all sizes and shades.
Its like a painting.
The kind you could look at forever.
And never tire from.

When I was a child.
I always said I wanted to get away.
But mum always said that one day I'll fall in love with here.
Now I know,now I've felt the pride.
And happiness that comes with here.

I look into the mirror each day.
And feel proud and happy.
Growing up my mother said thank-you.
With a smile.
Every time they said I looked like her.
Now I see why in the mirror.
I'd be proud if my daughter looked like me.
Me and my black skin.
My beautiful black skin.
 Aug 2017 Kitt
Kay Ireland
Open
 Aug 2017 Kitt
Kay Ireland
I am open for you—
like cemetery gates at sunrise.
Both deities above and below
warn of dire consequences.
Still I am open for you.

Love, and love, and love.
You must admit there was love
in the speckled blue you left on my neck,
and the tight grip on my hip
beneath flannel sheets and morning eyes.

Not love like caged doves and thrown rice.
Not love like three-bedroom house in the suburbs.
Love like no space in your queen-sized bed.
Love like you showing me how to inhale smoke at 3am.
Love like teeth and tongues and thumbs and thighs.

I am open, fully.
Gaping, expanding, overwhelming.
I am racing heart.
I am goosebumps on your forearm.
I am fingertips gripping shoulderblades.
I am love, I am love, I am love.
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