#tactile
Wind hitting hard,
burning hot,
and shifting the floor.
The soft sand,
orange and warm,
underneath my feet.
Through this vast
desert I walk,
trying not to burn
on a land where nothing's cold.
With this playful wind,
the sand creates and dissolves
intricate patterns,
and I can't help
but dance along.
Slow steps, just the tip,
gliding upon
this ever-changing
sweet and soft ballroom.
Apr 9
Apr 9, 2026 at 10:01 AM UTC
verbosity is my carnal sin,
never use one word when ten bare suffices,
language is the best tool for seduction
yes,
fingers are useful,
tongues multi-purposed,
eyes can flutter, tho silent only,
the round and the serpentine curves
are the inspiring arch of a cathedral,
but all are in service to the ultimate truth:
seduction is the art of the spoken,
magic spells can use a wand, but
to make love, to transit love, accept grace fully and great fully,
to its delicious surrender, be persuaded,
surrender, given into, gifted up,
the sounds of the voice
issuing its desires out loud,
and the words of
complete
you need to be child~like, a grown up needs reminding:
use your words!
the words of atomic bomb duress,
capitulate
give in
give (oneself) up
yield
concede
submit
climb down
give way
defer
acquiesce
back down
cave in
relent
succumb
quit
crumble
be beaten
be overcome
be overwhelmed
fall victim,
close down one's arms(
raise/show the white flag
throw in the towel/sponge
accept total retreat
concede defeat,
yield, crumble, give in,
cave in and up,
be a~swayed
forfeit the attraction of self-immolation ,
open your arms
to my words
surrender to my surrendering,
this vow, spoken,
crushes the will to resist, even a hey!
a warning shot across the bow,
attention must be paid…now, go practice
in the nearest full length mirror…
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 11:18 AM UTC
The surface remains intact.
The heart remains intact.
Each culminating inch of frame and cell,
Vowed upon and burnt through to the cinder,
Is now frozen, ashen mass.
Yet, the mere image is once again—
It is truly built upon—
And, even with no ember, remains intact.
Nov 17, 2022
Nov 17, 2022 at 9:37 PM UTC
Lightning.
Brutally shocking, burning, destroying.
A sudden flash, out of nowhere with striking speed and power.
Then thunder.
A rumble,
low, distant, and spine-tingling; a hovering fear, a looming threat.
Or a crackle--
fierce, sharp, wild, unpredictable.
A jolt.
A deafening, heat-stopping jolt.
Not just near you, but inside you.
Burning in your chest, pulsing through your blood, freezing on your skin, screaming in your mind.
It ends, but it doesn't leave. It remains, hovering in the air and burned into your soul. It echoes. It fades, but it remains.
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
The cold bites my nose
And the frost chills my lungs
And the wind is stinging my face.
But outside in this moment I'd rather be here than in any more comfortable place.
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
I do know lip-reading
But that smile
Demands for tactile
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 7:18 AM UTC
We all have demons
mine just so happen to have
FACES
and
LUNGS
and
HANDS.
An eye watches me
disembodied
floating a little way from my face.
I can feel something
living in my neck,
and it curls around my spine,
unsettled.
THE EYES THAT LIVE IN MY SCALP blink,
constantly blink.
it aches.
they blink together to some unknown metronome.
I try to ignore THE HANDS that grab at my head and shoulders,
gripping the sides of my head,
pressing into my temples.
My demons loom over me and BREATHE,
Cold gusts,
So cold..
I tremble in fear of the man who travels through dreams
and wonder how much HE KNOWS
and wonder if HE CAN SEE ME now
and is he GOD or DEVIL?
for now he is my DEMON
and on the back of my neck
I feel his EYES.
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 12:56 AM UTC
The starry lit clouds
shy and shinny
captured on the
nearby cherry tree branches
reflected your Apollo locks glitter
you pressed me on a barren trunk
your torso became a burning tree
trying to cool in a pond full of lava
Your tongue played rose~tit
mary magic ~on white satin hills.
My back hurt a bit, scratched,
the blouse finger blown, open.
And then. . . the real tempo started to begin. . .
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
Your touch closes my eyes
I let your words traumatise my mind
Your breath dampens my skin,
Provoking apocalyptic thoughts from within
The trickle of your touch
Is eating at my mind,
I keep your desires fed,
Thirst and hatred intertwined
Disrupting my insides
My lips escape discordant harmonies,
As in you I confide,
That the truth's foreign to my eyes
You remain my fixation
A sinister hallucination
Occurrences of formination
Are my self-rehabilitation
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC