Friday Night: It’s a **** Thang**

Smoke fills the air,
the sweet doobie scent
of high
times and
my fingers raising rainbows
as they travel across your naked skin.
Apricot nippled *******
brush my lips with
a music intoxicatingly
****** and you drip sexuality
all over me.
A love leaving me spin
in wildly exotic,
red lacy visions
of your mescaline funk
and lips on mine
driving me drunk with allusions
of your quivering release-
the  l  o  n  g  
s  l  o  w   version.

Oh no, “I don’t want a cure for this.”
As Diana says,
“Don’t call the doctor.”
I just need more tokes
on this sweet, sweet love.

Aztec Warrior/redzone 2.19.16

A Mothers Voice
The first that you hear kisses your tears and soothes your fears
A Lovers Voice
Who's whispers of *** entice and perplex your body's reflex
An Awesome Voice
That shouts out loud stands up and is proud not lost in the crowd
A Powerful Voice
One that rallies and fights without losing sight asserting its rights
A Survivors Voice**
Riddled with pain no longer in chains her monsters slain
A Warriors Voice
Strong and controlled without being told breaks free of the mold

This is My Voice

All the above
Warm like a glove
And full of love

(C) Pixievic

Sunkissed skin and tan lines,
Tussled hair and rose petals,
A love story that's never going to be told.
Shaking fingers sliding over satin
Finding little grasps of hope with
Moon light shining through the window,
A glow so sweet and soft settling into the night.
His bleeding love and her torn soul igniting fire with dry eyes and wet slithers of empty happiness.
These old bones rattle together, an urgent  meeting of compassion too powerful for a boy and a girl combined with love and moonlight.
If only the sun set hadn't come early, and danger didn't sound so **** and the feel of lathering skin wasn't so appealing, two lonely hearts would still be two hearts, and not a mixture of blood and shattered glass.