Her laugh, rain-soaked, cups creamy heated skin.
Together undress dusk, fingers white as steam.
Cold kissed our thighs—short cotton skirts, oh so thin—
Warm breath finds cold lips, fogged glass between their world and our dream.

Together undress dusk, fingers white as steam.
Our bath—hot, cold *******-to-back, a drip, within my embrace.
Warm breath finds cold lips, fogged glass between their world and our dream.
Gentle waves of my hand, her blond silk sighs search our secret place.

Our bath—hot, cold *******-to-back, a drip, within my embrace.
Her hands cup my world—her breath a hush, lost between my thighs.
Gentle waves of my hand, her blond silk sighs search our secret place.
I softly hold her pulse—a tremble—a longing to bloom, where silence lies.

Her hands cup my world—her breath a hush, lost between my thighs.
Blond—auburn silk sighs, find a glowing dawn, as one.
I softly hold her pulse—a tremble—a longing to bloom, where silence lies.
Winter’s wet and cold forgotten, our new love, begun.

Together undress dusk, fingers white as steam.
Tight in our arms, wet spent bodies adrift in silence, no past loves, no sound.
Warm breath finds cold lips, fogged glass between their world and our dream.
Our bath still holds our shape, strawberry silk sighs, cosmic bound.

Our moon slips red—eclipse’s ****** shadow cups her breast.
She lies still, a fawn, beneath my tear-brimmed eyes.
Her breath—dream’s morning dew?—a whispered request?
Light turns slowly, touch between her parted thighs.
She moans a whispered song—arching, “come to me.”

my mist expires in your atmosphere
linen sheets adhere
around my throat, no fear
smell pheromones in the air
it's crystal clear, my dear
i am amiss without you near

self-controlled
white-knuckle hold
now conquered
cold and longing to spy a songbird
if only for a single moment
and nothing longer
i am somber but mighty fond of her
strong enough to say it still
and stronger now to do
smart enough to ponder it here
but dumb enough to squander it too
red hearts are lies
beating blood flows blue
it is true, did you hear?
i'm amiss without you near

i thought we were musketeers
turns out you're the puppeteer
pulling my strings, was as I feared
another way to ingratiate and endear
while I'm tied here waiting to hear a footstep
to take the next step
another level for this intimate project
but from this aspect with all due disrespect
you subject me to intense neglect
you're a ****** architect speaking scintillating dialects
only I can connect but I am a bad girl... so I guess I deserve it

my favorite show now that you mention
is when you are standing at attention
you brighten your eyes and your voice changes inflection
my indiscretion becomes your intention
but I digress, and bite through, throughout this blissful rendezvous
as we float like a feather into the bedroom together
past dawn until noon
it must be true
i am amiss without you

She doesn’t flinch beneath the weight of heat,
My breath explores the hollow of her thighs.
She waits—unmoving—where the birches meet,
She arches slowly… then my hush sighs.

My breath explores the hollow of her thighs,
A damp note, I taste the waking skin.
She arches slowly… then my hush sighs.
I circle close, inhale where love has been.

A damp note, I taste the waking skin,
Her pulse, a Spring fawn trembling beneath dry leaves.
I circle close, inhale where love has been,
Cool wet air licks the heat her silent body weaves.

Her pulse, a Spring fawn trembling beneath dry leaves,
A long, slow, sigh traces curves—shadow drips to skin.
Cool wet air licks the heat her silent body weaves,
A ****** breeze gazes upon her folds, eyes deep within.

A long, slow, sigh traces curves—shadow drips to skin,
I breathe in her gasp—wildflowers, warm and wet.
A ****** breeze gazes upon her folds, eyes deep within,
Lips part slowly, a drip lingers and falls—lips met.

She doesn’t flinch beneath the weight of heat,
I am a tender hush, a windy night, her secret dream.
She waits—unmoving—where the birches meet,
Forever as one, a silent, deep, pleasured scream.

A lone apple blossom clings inside sticky heat.
She blooms too late—her petals ache with desires.
I press my thigh—her fleeting scent, without mine, incomplete.
The mirror knows my hungers, captive by summer briars.

She blooms too late—her petals ache with desires.
I spread for her—hot breath, the mirror’s caress, skin wet as dew.
The mirror knows my hungers, captive by summer briars.
Her fingers—stamens—circle—I ache—I view.

The mirror knows my hungers, captive by summer briars.
Blossom falls—her lace, a pool, straps drift as leaves.
Her fingers—stamens—circle—I ache—I view.
She wilts in glass—her nectar, wind-blown, grieves.

Blossom falls—her lace, a pool, straps drift as leaves.
I touch—visions of her caress—her sighs fall as stars.
She wilts in glass—her nectar, wind-blown, grieves.
Alone, I bloom—my arch of ecstasy, lonely as love’s scars.

Hot summer forest, sweat and dawn’s faint light,
My feet in time with sighs of willow trees,
Bare cheeks and skin, dew-glossed and shining bright,
My ******* sway freely, ******* hard in breeze,
Moss meets my wetness—harmonies, soft lies
Nightbirds perform their final song with ease,
While fireflies blink out their last goodbyes,
Alone, I’m cradled close by nature’s sweet surprise,
An ****** of dawn—my body soaring as I rise.

In dappled gold, a turtle halts my stride,
Her ancient fortress shell, a gaze unblinking,
Paused, I’m exposed—no secret folds to hide— 
Her slow, wise eyes undress me, softly blinking.
“Old mother,” I sigh, “what are you thinking?” 
Does my left breast seek the gentle morning sky? 
Do wild curls shame me, or my fantasizing? 
Do you see *******, not a perfect doll’s eye? 
The forest hushes, breathless, waiting for her reply. 

I study flesh—each mile sculps *** and breast,
Do I run for her, or am I just insane?
The rush of blood, feeding animal unrest,
Her body in our bed—my lust, a hurricane.
She’s dawn’s first glow; I’m shadow, bound by chain.
Does this sweat feed her gaze, or pool between thighs?
I pass fat faces, screens glued, cold with disdain—
I’d rather die in wildness, in open skies,
My body, food for forest, feasted by butterflies.