My palms glide down your spine
Smooth skin meets sandpaper
As your back tapers into your ***
Sensual or ****** or sanative
It makes no difference to me

Every inch slipping downwards,
The primal urge to please
To elicit a passionate sigh
Sensual or ****** or sanative
It makes no difference to me

She languishes in silent grief, feeling unloved by the one to whom she bared her heart's every tenderness.

It is me tonight

that will need
to find  release
through ******

Find a quiet place
on the edge of
your bed

and join me

your trainers full of dirt
next to a Christmas decoration,
the woodpacker self-absorbed on a branch,
a pigeon floating on a current of mystery
I emptied of an I in the tenderness
of this fleeting moment

the past has haunted me throughout my life,
and I am drowning in stressed out sweat.
I lock myself in cages
and throw away the keys,
far behind, over and over
it takes so much for me
to find my way out
but every time I tend to
punish myself,
wait for winter solstice
to wash away my sins
by the full moon, I lay
like cats astray
I tend to wonder if I could
restart my life from scratch
and never repeat
the same old mistakes again
I tend to wonder if I could
gather around the tenderness
and give myself a chance
forever the girl in dreams of
fairytales and wonder realms
how I wish I could reach
the touch of each touch I touch
when I begin again easier on myself.

so long  so painful this journey
to surrender myself anew like a bud full of tension
recognize you, reinvent the rituals of sensing
I weep in front of the threshold of spring  
between eros and thanatos an excessive tenderness
I am well prepaired for the erosion of time in my hair
poetry and reality facing each other in my hands
I do not hope do not despair do not wait for grapes to wonder
it's just the taste of it,  the feel of it, this quality of the infinite
that makes me look at you with androgynous complicity

you tell me that when
you think of me,
you think
"good person."
is that so?

i want to tell you how much
i appreciate the sentiments
or how
you make me feel just a
                                little less rotten
but the words stay
hostage
inside my mouth.

i want to be good.
i want to be kind,
i want to be holy,
sacred.
i want to i want to.

but this tenderness was forged
in the fire and the fire
is all it will ever know.