My gravity
My light
Infinitely shining  
Saturating your being
With sensuality
A comet shooting through
Your body with insistent need
Filling you up with
Bottomless provocation
Ripening in spring nights
With the promise of diversion
The romance of moonlight
Eclipsed by arousal
Caught in my orbit
Your shooting star
Blazes through my constellation

I hunger for your sea
Flooding my mind
With a surge of longing
Rippling through my body
In spasms of desire
Churning my craving
Into waves of passion
White tipped rollers
Tantalisingly out of reach
I surf through your touch
Swelling, twisting - finally
Breaking in a crest of elation
Before ebbing slowly
Back into the calm expanse
Of salacious bliss

(C) Pixievic

(Adult Content )

















"There was a smell of **** in the air "
So said Henry Miller.

Women in Love
in the old wood shed
He loved her ****
or
so he said.
Lawrence lingered in rooms
filled
with old echoes.

***
Eroticism  (hormones)
takes the body
Myth takes
the mind.

***** brain
where everything is
******  parts
T & A
**** and ***
Sell that soap
Cars love Shell Gasoline
Lenny Bruce
went down for that.

People have life force
some call it souls
Personalities
Lives on their way
Better get an AI robot
have it your way.

Objectify
Deny

What is this
****** stuff
anyway?

Get close
because I love you?

******* dreams
all night long?

Madonna/*****
Male or female
doesn't matter
either can be
either one.

The bed has been made
Looks like someone
must have had a
seizure
in
it.

Eroticism/Hormones
take the body
Myth takes the mind
But
When you come (***)
you're done.

Wait a half hour
start all over again
you know
when you're young.

(1)

I'm disturbed and yet deeply
comforted by my disturbed nature
I'm comforted because my darkness
envelops me-
it may be cold to the touch
rigid and upright
not soft and loving
but it's loyal
it never leaves.

Today, I'm driving
window down to help me breathe
I capture cold air in my wind pipe
I smell November winter air
smoke from chimneys rising-
when I breathe out I'm smoking too
warm air penetrating cold air
I smell November winter air
we're still in October
it's too early for these memories
I'm unprepared- it's too early.

Sat next to me she appears-
a paler, younger, thinner self
a self I'm sure has passed on
to another life
if it haunted me we'd call her a ghost
but she comforts me
shall we call her an imaginary friend?

"You look terrible!" I state wilfully.

(2)

She's dressed in a thousand layers
"You still feel the cold, eh!" I say
She winks, staying aloof
from any possible conversation
I take a tone of similar indifference.

There she is barely visible
so unafraid of death
arms striped with incisions
a razor blade left behind
hip bones, collar bones, chest bones
she's nothing more
than a white sheath coat
pulled over the skeleton of
a human body
skin screaming for nourishment
to show any signs of life.

If I asked to feel her pulse
there'd be nothing there
no beat
no rhythm
"Maybe it's why the fear of death
has left me!" she commands
"Because in your muffled confusion
your muscles wasting
including your brain-
you mistake yourself for dead." I retort
"You're 21 for Christ's Sake!"

(3)

Distracted by a red traffic light
I turn away-
when I look back, she's gone.

So here I am
talking to myself
the ghost of Christmas past
disappears as soon as my back
is turned.

When I'm alone
the silence
is always louder
than any noise I ever hear-
the silence attracts her back
I reach out to her
trace her face with my finger tips
I whisper: "God Bless,"
knowing some memories are meant
to be laid
to rest.


© Sia Jane


Read on SoundCloud:
https://soundcloud.com/sia-jane-words/winter-air