Once a man asked me back To his home for after dinner drinks. I was comfortable with that. We had went to dinner several times. I drove my car and followed him. We talked for about 30 minutes or so And I excused myself and went to powder my nose, carrying my handbag. I was out of the room about 4 minutes. When I returned he was *****. He had placed a metal folding chair In the center of his well lit dining room. I know my eyes were as big as saucers. I remember thinking “This escalated fast” Doing a pantomime he held up a latex object that looked like a decanter stopper. Oversized. And upside down. He waved his hand under it as part of his presentation. Think of a stewardess doing the pantomime of flight safety rules, Or QVC seller on television. He then set the item on the metal chair and sat right down on it with an odd squishy-sucky noise. Up until that point I had not moved an inch. I am pretty much open minded about ***. But the whole situation and the mime-like presentation was so much ick I panicked. I ran out the back door. I didn’t say a word. Just ran. He obviously couldn’t follow me quickly because you know.... He had something up his ****.
If this topic is too much or over the top I will be perfectly ok with deleting it.
i'm shaking apart over you your countenance a cascading dream moved to tears of adoration your limitless yielding like surrenders caress an infinite communion with fragile limbs silky wrapped spools innerness of desire veiled in a shroud a faltering star that glistens crimson nymph of purgation ash volcanic cells en-flamed with tongues that bite subsumed in scented vapors a confection of **** and *** waves embrace ineffable shores passed the discontinuity of life
I have the most immense feeling of love for you am i not the saint death quietly following you through life's labyrinth innocuous waiting humbly in the wings
i am all ache for you a vice of kisses a brief encounter that eats your sight and senses ushering you to immortal freedom a swooning garland of fire that enlivens the body electric a mist of molecules
your tears intoxicate i am new life with in you budding embryo that consumes its mother for nourishment and saturates like dew drops as it echoes through oblivion
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ****** If i where a film maker or a novelist you would see me telling a story, and yes i admit to my paraphilias. These poems are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive impulses we all share Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me