What my reality is
Is not a dream come true
It's a flowing tide of incidents
With people true to who they believe they are supposed to be

What my reality is
Is a mess of circumstance
And an unrivaled openness
That oft scares those afraid of who they are

What my reality is
Is the nightmare that my truth
Leaves me lonely surrounded by those I love

What my reality is
No longer concerns you

you
      walk
            naked
                  and dripping,
from
      the shower
                      
and stand,
             as i covet
                         your
                              absolute

beauty and magnificence.

ardent desire,
               raises goosebumps
on
   my skin,
             as lust
                    lights the fires.

your
     eyes,
         rake over me
                      and i am left
quivering....

we come
         together, with    
              mouths full of greed,
lips of desire,
             skin so tender....

that the touch
              of fingertips,
                   scorches and sears.

but burn, we must
             and burn, we will.

as we ravenously, take our fill

gorging,
           feasting,
                      devouring,
                      ­              desire.

this is our .....
      love's funeral pyre.
                      from which
the phoenix,
        each day arises...
             ...more incandescant.
to await...
          with longing
               fervent and asmolder
          
the next match's
                   striking to love's
                           lusterous fire.

a bedtime story*

In the distance stands a lighthouse
seeing all with cyclops eye
once a beacon, now a hollow,
dead in misted moonlit sky.

Proudly once she ruled the headland,
warning all of crag and shoal
trusted friend to salt scoured sea dogs,
smugglers caught within her glow.

Beauty lived as Keepers mistress
'till one day her love did bloom
walking clifftops with her lover
brought her ending, far too soon.

Bloodied, torn by cliff face ragged
screaming for the life she craved,
Beauty held her rounded belly
As fury deep hit waters grave.

Beauty stands alone in darkness
there above the tempest sea
bloated souls of those who perished
now her only company.

 When the moon is high above us
wrapped in rags and witching stare
Beauty stands atop the catwalk
weeds 'a winding through her hair.

I do not have a ****** heart..
It's been ****** with,
And torn apart..
My heart is a *******,
Getting payed with love-filled lies.
My ****** body isn't yet caught up.
I gave all that was inside of me,
Trying to protect what I was born with,
My cleanliness, my virginity,
My purity..
My ****** body is white, pure, clean.
But my heart is black, broken, dead..
Waiting to be revived.
So please, revive my heart..
But don't take my body..