With want me eyes he wraps my hair around his fist
He gives it a little tug bringing me closer to his wrist
My lips are warm and inviting
and already so long overdue
He starts off slow and soft
As I feel his breath on my lips
His tongue traces my bottom lip teasing
giving me a little nip
His sweet kisses cause a warm wave to take over me
As he heats me up from the inside
Slick with a need and burning
That only he can subside
He tweaks my ******* with his
fingers through my shirt
A sly smile forms as he starts *******
me thinking of his dessert
His mouth and tongue start kissing its way down
Tempting...Teasing...and Feasting
While I am just laying there
Trembling...Needing...and Pleading
Oh My ~ is all I could muster when his lips move
like a breeze over my thighs
Passion explodes as my will erodes
I revel in the sensation of being Conquered
And at the same time....*Conquering

'Tis not always spelled in letters,
'Tis not always said in words,
'Tis not always sung in notes,
Loud enough to be heard.
'Tis not always writ in sands,
Nor frosted window panes,
'Nor engraved on precious stones,
Ornate jeweled chains.
'Tis not always spilled on paper,
Nor carved on barks of trees,
The language of love,
'Tis more than words can be.
It might ne'er be understood,
Or perhaps deftly read,
For much of what is love,  
May pass away unsaid.
But 'tis there in tenderness,
Longing wistful eyes,
A heart that lights up,
Every moment love comes by.
'Tis there in a gentle hold,
A shoulder kind enough,
Caring thoughts that sail you through,
Choppy seas, weathers rough.
'Tis coloring you a happy pink,
When the world grey's a blue,
Love is more than words can say,
Love is more than 'I love you'.

A trickle of time
melts its way down
a mountain of perhaps.
Other trickles
from others' potentials
merge and mingle;
become a stream
which grows as it gathers.
Soon, soon,
time no longer
is guided by stone
but carves it,
carves unwilling rock
into fissures.
Earth itself is rent
by what might have been;
time gathers the debris
and carries it downstream,
deep and slow and wide.
The canyon it cut
is deep and wide as well,
and twists and turns
with branches and dead ends.
Our lives are but a shout into the void,
echoes which carry and fade
along canyon walls,
unless and until
an ear downstream
might hear them.
Perhaps they will;
perhaps not.
The river and canyon both
are fickle;
hold their secrets close.
The only potential
once here

is to shout
until no voice is left.

I followed his footprints in the snow
Thinking his path was the way to go
He didn’t even seem to notice I was there
I spoke to him as we walked but he didn't care
I stopped at several places along the way
He just kept moving forward with nothing to say
After a while I felt so alone and so tired
And I began to drift further and further behind
Though I could still see him way up ahead
He turned onto another path to walk instead..
Eventually I realized I could no longer see
As he moved relentlessly on without me
His footprints start to fade and then they disappear
He never even knew I was near
I stood at the path he turned to walk on...
Unable to move forward
And I turn to walk...
Away...

*Maybe one day our paths will cross again

There is a dark place you will go,
a place where we've all been
at one time
or another.
A place where clichés come true,
where nightmares turn to reality,
a place where your worst fears,
your deepest insecurities,
will tower above you.
It is a place you will visit
when you have been drained
emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally,
but must keep moving forward.
A place that does not discriminate
for anyone,
a place that is the great equalizer.
You will not be able to breathe.
Your lungs will be filled with soot,
your eyes will be branded in fire,
your mind will be captive,
you will want to quit.
You may even want to die.

But this place holds a secret.

You will fall to your knees
on tough soil and gravel,
blind,
and you will cry, you will scream.
The air will be as fire,
and your skin will be as ice.
But you will dig.

You will blindly ****** your fingers into the cold Earth,
you will search for a way out,
you will rip and bleed and tear,
and you will convince yourself
it is futile.
But you will not stop.

You will keep fighting.

This place holds a secret.
This place holds an opportunity -
an opportunity for growth.

And, yes, you will grow.