Paint me naked with your pen.
Write me naked with your quill.
See me naked in your mind.
Open your eyes wide.
Rip my cloak from my shoulders.
Unbutton my crisp white linen blouse.
Open it wide.
Peel it back.
I'll turn around.
You may unfasten my fresh white bra.
I feel fresh too.
Remove my breast restraint.
Let it fall to the floor.
Run your fingers down my spine.
It's wholly sensitive.
Undo my jeans.
Gently slip them over my form.
Cautiously lay me on your bed.
We kiss with fire.
My ****** are black.
They're French in style
Now you see me near naked.
And then que sera sera!
(C) Livvi

lonely moths -
black and white
and in-betweens

navigating
by the same light

  spiraling -
adapting
- changing

traits
moth-ers know

no need to race
- we are one.

r ~ 10/28/14

http://anthro.palomar.edu/vary/vary_2.htm

Rainy days and Mondays
Piloting my car like a
river boat captain
on a shiny Mississippi
It is morning but still dark
an eye dropper of blue has
been added to the sky
and what was once black
has now slowly spread to purple
A purple macchiato in the atmosphere

I pass by a convenient store
It looks like an oasis in the dark rain
Soft blue lights reflecting on wet asphalt, illuminated marquee
an old cinematographer trick  

This is my time
This is where I live
This is me.
My true self
before,
I am stained by work

To me
more than just a vessel to the afterlife
but it might just be

I build my pyramid on the carpet
4x3
One by three by five by seven
So on and so forth

Above all this pyramid has the power
to change my life
Monetarily
Immortality
or
most importantly
for myself
right
here
(The Heart)

I am angrier at thirty
Than at any other age in my life