i can still feel the tiny feet
of the static that
was running marathons when we first kissed.

i can still feel your burning
touch against my skin
and the times you
slipped your tongue in-

i can still feel you in colors like
lavender and grey
the silkiness of the sheets
the hex your body placed upon me.

i can still feel you like
a tug at my entire core.
i am always the one
who wants more.

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In whiskey sodden dreams I feel silky bedclothes encompass
my flimsy pretty negligee clad body
Whimsy takes a hold, bold dreams drape my mind
My dimly lit boudour welcomes the vibrancy of the dream
Unblushingly dis inhibited by the sweet sickly whiskey
I feel frisky, risky, risqué
I want the silkiness of the dark dimly lit night to
ignite, I want flimsy, gipsy, filthy, ***** love.
In whiskey sodden dreams I feel my inner *****,
in dreams I can open the door.

i yearn for you
     'tween raindrops
silkiness
    of early morn's dew,
spirit
    of twilight's mist
dark cherry wine's
    intoxication
& comforts
    of a different rhyme
those spaces
   that enchant musings
toxic perfum'd lacings
     air filled of metaphorical
blush'd smoke
    gasping for surrender
'tween honey'd breaths
         wafting in my mind
  of nectar'd
       burgundy enchantments

He showed up with flowers I didn't deserve.
My hair uncontrollable and my dress to short.
He said my name but it held no meaning in his mouth,
spit out without savouring.
I didn't know what to say when he expressed my beauty.

To much wine can make me bold.
Mouth has no filter,
cheeks flushed pink and my smile to free.
My laughter bursting brightly.
I began to notice his smile,
the silkiness of his voice.

He took my hand in his and there was no spark,
no strangled butterflies.
I fumbled awkwardly and he stared to hard.
Eyes unreadable and yet I already knew.

He asked to come in and it hit me,
that I was tired of dreaming of you at my window,
I'm always sitting on the edge of sorrow.

He kissed me so deeply that it's amazing he didn't steal my breath.

******* me with eager hands,
his lips lost on skin.
Eyes closed tightly,
I embrace the moment of letting someone in.
To rough and undeserving,
no emotion,
just need.

wild rose flower of the dawn.
a soft touch one  heart bring tears
to my eyes.
wild rose
wild rose
how i wonder how you are.
the silkiness of lips  of
wine.
in the meadow and in the  grove
O'wild rose of loveliness  
my spring flower of life you are
a song with in  a song.
as pure as lily of spring water of life.
what is in a song but with in your heart
to love pure and warm.

It was a Saturday night somewhere where'bouts
December the 10th of 2012;
okay, fine, I can't recall the exact date, but that's not
the point
of this;
it's so much less bout the whens and whys and so much more
bout the whats, the what the **** it was.
And it was so good.
It was just a December night
in my windowless bedroom,
and I know it was a Saturday
for sure
because Daddy was picking me
up
at 9 o'clock on the ******* dot
because that Sunday was game day,
and we needed to get to Indy in time
to swallow down some Medium Rare burgers
before kickoff.
Anyway, so yeah,
Saturday night in my cave of a bedroom,
the only light that broke the darkness's
arrogant foreground
was the iridescent glow of the four
lavender and ocean scented candles I had placed
on the shelf by my desk,
seemingly casual enough,
but nothing I ever do is actually casual,
and it never was casual with you,
as much as I may have pretended.
It was all calculated, all culminated, all animated and anticipated,
*******, yeah, I laid out the whole set up
with the candles and the music and the glow,
like a perfectly **** setting.
But it turned out after it all that it wasn't that
sexiness I thought I wanted
that hit me so hard in the gut.
It was us, sitting there on my bed
side-by-side,
bodies close enough that we were almost touching,
like I could feel the body heat from your
perfectly built arms,
but I didn't actually feel the silkiness
that was your caramel skin
against my ivory.
Nope. No touching, for once
it really wasn't about that,
not even in the slightest.
We just sat and gabbed and laughed and
cried and squealed and
joked and concluded and pondered
and on and on
and
on
it went,
our bodies every so often readjusting
their positions on my white comforter with the black
flowers,
and I really just knew you in those moments
and you I
and it was like there was no clock
no time
no morning early rising committed plans
to the outside world,
because that realm ceased to exist as
you laughed in baritone
and told me funny stories about football and your friends
and then tragedies
about a mom that never loved you right
and a dad you never knew except for
the drugs and
his lack of
presence.
And there I went telling
you about when I got kicked off the team
and the one time
I got beat up
and other secrets I never knew I would
tell anyone and somehow
on it went as we were spiraling into
the abyss full of
everything we have ever needed, wanted, desired,
fears no longer fearful
and hurt set loose;
somehow I frantically reached for my phone
realizing that we just
made an entire night of conversating
and falling into something
that could be that word I won't
use because I ain't entirely sure,
but ****, my Dad was 20 minutes away,
you couldn't stay,
and I think I just
yeah,
I'll say it,
cuz I really think that night
I fell
in love.

I'm the fire of his afterthought,
the spark of guilt that lit his
soul on fire
that blazing innocence
around
his eyes
when he smiles
I stick tongue in his ear
in devilish voice
of seduction
whisper in heated
breath what I'm gonna
do to him,
one lick of heat
he flitters like a moth
to flame flickering in
and out breathing my
name; I got game, when
I make him holler in vain
he's tamed; sweet
as a kitten licking and
dipping in fiery pit,
as I allow him to suckle
a little ***; having a fit,
mind bound in illusions
wrapping lips around
wanton conclusions

I leave him delusional as
I whip with lust; blowing
his mind just so, I can
control him as I allow him to
leave nibbling teeth marks
tonguing wetness
back to front upon
silkiness of skin,
delving into
softness of elusive
innocence;
still whispering words,
igniting fires of
desirable passion
as he's gasping for
breath between wet
thighs...yes I sighed
as each word and lick
fell between each
soft petal dripping
with his tenderest
touch caught as I
squeezed and teased,
the heat of his
passion blew flames
in and out of petalled
mouth, zapping any
thoughts of guilt;
sipping sweet nectar
seeking political
asylum as a defector
tasting his way south;
dribbling and mouthing
in hunger on bended
knee's to forever
please me as
he walked beside
me collared on leash;
in beggary silently
still ******* me
melting away each layer
with every lick of my
whip; he adored me
with his touch, as I,
his ebony skinned
Mistress whipped
his mind into
submission;
bending him
to my will
****! he
thrilled me
as I played
him like
a
fiddle,
he
dribbled
into
my
fiery
pit
in
which
he
was
well
equipped
so,
I
allowed
him
to
dip
with
his
flaming
hot
wick...LICKED

There was a young man who sat by the Sea
Without fail, everyone knew, he would go every morning
The youth sat there to think and it made him feel free
Free to dream or not dream. When in bliss, when in mourning

He loved the Sea for its surface
Wind-kissed waves distorting starlight
He loved the Sea for it's depths
Churning into thick ink when absorbing the night

A love that began in small boyhood
Burying tiny toes within her cool sand
Though with the strong passion of man
The first time her wet silkiness tickled his hand

Oh, how he adored her! Through torrents and sun
Her whispers and shouts only separate intensities
But he would not go into her, for he feared just as much
She had told him, one by one, of her darkest propensities

So a sailor in heart, but in soul a wise lover
The boy, now a man paid respect to her glory
He and she, now and then, liked to play with each other
But she kept him from harm where she showed others fury

This went on, sunrise, sunset,  and day after day
Until all the young man's friends were stooping and gray
Still the lull of the sea seemed to pull him away
From reality and back into it, he'd gone mad, some will say

And the time had come finally to confess all his desires
To do what he had refrained from for so long
On a particular eve that seemed wilder than any
The hour to usher in his destiny, and feel her sea-song

The storm caused curling foam,
Both entrancing and detestable
But to him, it looked like home
Like a restful sleep, quite testable

He thought, could this tumult be wrath of the Father?
Or is this a sign--the return of the Son?
Perhaps, 'tis a warning from the Holiest Ghost
He was wrong, but just right. 'Twas all this, but in one

And nearby sirens sang
For the bravery of their hero as he was swept from the shore
And far-off sirens rang
For the fate of the old man, the sailor, who watched the sea no more

Beguiling

Would you like to know the picture God carries of you first fired in his imagination then bathed in light
And the final element water I know the power fire has to loosen the quiet tongue the flame dances and

Leaps your mind and imagination falls in step recall marches in with abundant expansive dialogue the
More you talk the more thoughts rush in as where the final viewing is in the clearest pure water at first

You don’t expect your change of mood when you approach any size of water it can be just a pool or a
Tremendous lake and more favorable is the small setting with water present a peace will descend like

Misty silk it bellows out and gently descends engulfing you through this silky sheen you are the supreme
Vision of loveliness the male is never more handsome the woman is never more beautiful can it be any

Different to look upon a face through green sea colors that occur when the sun shines through the
Rolling wave’s silkiness is nothing but the master’s delightful touch God sees his

Daughters as true princesses of the mysterious desert and there was a reason that Valentino played
Sheiks of the mysterious desert land it made him incomparable and the women stood on equal footing

In character and looks spellbinding that is what you look like to God we love with all of our heart but his
Capacity is so far greater than ours every church around the globe would be busting at the seams and

More being constructed if people really knew God and his love that is the greatest cry of the human
Heart is to be loved it took a master deceiver and the greatest hater of mankind to wreck the havoc that

He has accomplished well why doesn’t God do more the artist sized it up when a broken bloodied savior
Was shown on Calvary with his arms outreached with the underlining words he loved you this much

You’re the whole of his existence there is master piece after master piece that hang in museums but
They pale and are considered inferior botched art next to his longing pleading eyes that say come unto

Me my treasure and know everlasting pleasure come and be seated around my throne your rightful
Place that was always my plan for you only death and sorrow awaits those that turn a deaf ear to
Perfect love

There no longer is light in once brightly lit blue eyes
The light has faded being overrun by
Rotting alone with the steam of the bath drawn
High in heat and low in self esteem
She sits wrinkling in her own decaying moods
The razored edge pressed against the bite plain palm of her left hand
The nails on her right too bitten and bruised from a nervous tick
That was earned over the formidable years of solitude
In the presence of a man, women or child
She chewed those nails untill only ****** stumps remained
To hold the blade against the skin
As she slits the frightened skin, it splits open against the cool metal
Repeatedly freezing her dead beating heart
Giving jumps to an amnesiac heart that forgot
The drums in which it beat alongside to the tune
Peeling at the edges to reveal a rotten core
Oozing with an unknown slime
The black coloured lumps of already clotted blood
From the twenty times before
She took the razor again in her hands
Again and
Again and over
Again.
Slowly and always she's been cutting off her life line
One slit of the vein at a time
Exposing the eroded mess of a body
And the tangles of a decomposing brain that is
Wishing away her life upon a dream
A dream inside the dream of a life that was not her own
The model who lives in anorexia, who cannot actually breathe
But it is what she wishes.
So her bones jut out like flags against the bathtubs silkiness
Her face is sunken, a hallowed place with no life
Her bones etched and engraved with years of fear
From the "dimples" and layers of fat that stuck to her like glue
The "flab" that was skin that hung loosely from her ribs
An aspiration that caused this illness
And set her on the course of searching for a homedial cure
Yet, she is not thin enough, so she cuts away the flesh upon her body
With salt mixing with soap
From her once bright blue eyes and
The suds within the steaming water
That lap against her skin like a cat tongue
Roughly tormenting her already devoured soul
A harsh reminder of what she could never have
So the resolution she came up was to carve away her insides
To give away her vitals to the poor children in the world
In an attempt to be rendered thin and to disappear from plain sight
But she still can't choose what stays and what fades away

Deep within a damp alleyway, the worker gathers his coat
and walks swiftly into the crisp air of a late fall night.
Above him, the stars twinkle restlessly from light-years away,
illuminating the path before him as he hurries home.
Around him, in heated homes and comfortable beds,
the city people are lazy and tired,
shifting into monotonous nightly routines
of teeth-brushing and pajama-wearing.
Beneath him, the ground stirs and then settles
as his feet briskly tap along the surface of the dirtied cement.

The worker does not focus on what is in front of him -
the empty roads that amplify his sense of foreboding,
the street lights that make ordinary objects seem to stew in shadowy evil,
the lonesome cars littered along street curbs, looking abandoned
without a person in the driver's seat -
instead, he catches a cloud and drifts home,
to where his children sleep in bundles of soft cotton,
illuminated by the hazy light of a distant hallway.

From there, he glides silently into the living room,
where his wife is wrapped tightly in fleece blankets,
awaiting his arrival.
Her body soaks in the warmth of a nearby fireplace;
her eyes gaze into the flames thoughtfully.
Her sweet, kind face is contoured by shadow,
but glows from the gentle light of the fire.

Carefully, the worker floats into the seat
beside his wife on the ottoman,
but she shows no sign of any awareness of his presence,
continuing to watch the flames flicker.
At long length, she relaxes
and reclines along an arm of the sofa,
legs stretched out before her.
Her eyes close and her breathing slows,
and the worker believes that his wife has entered sleep.
With a feeling of satisfied content, he hovers above her
and watches her chest continuously rise and fall ever so slightly.
Her body, once young, giggling and bold,
has now blossomed into one of mature, refined beauty.

The worker catches a small glimpse of unshielded skin
exposed by the low cut of her womanly dress
and remembers the first time she let him hold and touch her,
her cheeks burning pink with excitement and lust.
He remembers the gentle curves of her body,
the silkiness of her pure skin,
and the small gasps she made into his ear as he caressed her.
He remembers the late nights spent at her bedroom window,
away from home, from his unknowing parents,
from where he should have been.
He remembers the tears that peaked
along the edges of her eyes,
intermingled with the joy and happiness of marriage
and a sense of forever,
as she spoke those fateful two words.

And here she is now, his wife,
dutifully awaiting his return home
while his body lies stripped and motionless,
face down on the dirtied cement.

Nature’s lessons
Drift among the distant hills of Texas call the blue bells from sleep
Remember youthful play to far away amidst the mist with gray to weep
Clear the eyes by today’s joys see the river endlessly meander enter the flow
Never a heart as livened by the blustering wind release your heart let it go
Deepest longing when nature is observed clouded sky blades of grass sigh
Walk with bare feet delight sensual connection with spine among tender shoots
Hills ever roll lower lands expand to the morning sun in these common rays are its roots
The butterfly’s wings brings a carefree silkiness in tiniest span painted in miniature still spell bounding
Was the soul before in a fix trouble wide seemingly to high follow with the eye the bird’s joyful sounding?
The trees stand in a blessed grove canopied sheltering arms holds you with tendrils most tender
In this shady soft light you can find rest and comfort all is ease here you can have your heart free just surrender
In this we conclude by scenes of rapture we have loved and together we have tasted earthen glory
By minds in concert we have purged evils vale arrested mystical truths and with great thrill we share the story
Not everyone will go on this quest to define and know each other in innocence it makes for a rare find
The key that opens the door is discovery the door is patience the way ever opens by love and trust ever will the two bind

Body of Whispers
come down on him
gentle sweep the feeling of sorrows

lay down her side
feel the glory of the moment
love whispers

gentle as two combine into each other
love is strong
engaging the life

bliss of twisted tongues
touch
feel
is this love
is this the moment
what someone meets for the first time

do they wait patiently in time
hungry pleases
cherish the love
in many ways to count

love can whisper
the meaning what one does for the either

body of whispers
sleep with her tonight
do not leave
for she prepares
early hour delight in the morning to taste

breakfast serve
where do you want her to express her soul
she'll prepare the delight of a meal
upon herself

he would look the amazing beauty
before his eye's

these whisper she speaks
through the ears of him

silent touch tells all
enchanted love is the fantasy
of a mans view

when he looks at the woman he loves
how she presents herself
to him as a gift of love

take her now
lets make heaven above
cream and sugar in his morning coffee

is it cream or is pure delight by her
for him to tastefully endure such a gift by her love

she is amazing
she is the love of his life

he to presents the vision for her to hold
upon her hand
allowing her to feel touch
the strength of his growth

no matter how they whisper
to each other

body of whispers
gently becomes
the love of two people
who feel for each other

for breakfast is serve
come to her gently
feel the silkiness of her skin
soft
pure
kiss to all her well being of her soul of her body

she feels to
as you both touch the four play of each other

body
mind
soul
to touch
kiss the moist for the flavors are yours to have

come down on him
tongue is spoken
with so much emotion
of her moist lips
upon his growth to her
channel of turns rotating the gift

she beginnings the emotion of her lips of her tongue
come down on him

whisper to him
take her to the table
let him give her all

for pleasure are there
early hour of the morning whispers
bring the love of explosion

come to him
come to her

body of whispers
secretly turns the tables around

love begins never ends
all you hear
is silent
all you hear
is silent without the whisper
by the two

who whisper the night
early hour of the morning

bodies combine into passionate
of exotic ways
by two
by love
by the silent by the body of whisers

I should not have washed the shirt you wore
You have left
No traits of you to be found

I still could smell your scent
I still feel the texture of your skin
the silkiness of your hair
on the tip of my fingers

I am infatuated with you
My vulnerability comes short of your passiveness

The Flower – A Tribute ©

Thank you flower for the wonderful bouquet you present to me

Thank you flower for your fragrance
That fills the air and makes me smile

Thank you flower for allowing me touch your silkiness
And to feel beauty

Thank you flower for blessing me with your array of colors

Thank you flower being there...

On my Birthday and to count the years

On Mother’s Day to thank Mom for being Mom

On Father’s Day to be with Dad

On Valentine’s Day to let my sweetheart know I love her

On my wedding day to celebrate my relationship

To celebrate my child’s birth

At so many special occasions

Even when there wasn’t a good reason

And one last thank you,
Thank you for being there when I pass on

I know you will brighten the room
Even if it is a sad moment for those left behind

Thank you flower for making me feel better
Knowing that you will be there

Andreas Simic©

Silkiness trickles down my calves
Pencil protruding from a puncture wound
Yellow woods, stained crimson
Oh…. Nothing there

Eyes travel over blooming hair
Grassy greens into a sky blue
On a sticky afternoon
I’m glad she didn’t notice

The pencil finally ends its dance
And the figures start to breath
Penciled eyes blink, sweet mouths curve
Please talk to me

A slender figure dancing on the trees
Right outside my window
What a curious way to entertain me
Why don’t people see?

I hallucinate there’s a world around
With people crowding all around
I imagine some asking, pleading, begging me
Muffled voices murmuring.
Wake up darling.
Be alive and speak
That’s why it’s only a dream

I never had a chance,
To spread my love,
I knew you wouldn't give me a glance,
You were like an angel from above

The sparkle in your eyes,
The easiness in your laughter,
It came to me as a surprise,
When I found out what you were after

I felt the beating of your heart,
The silkiness of your skin,
I never wanted to be apart,
Or for us to come to an end

I could not sustain,
When you said we were through,
I could not ease the pain,
I will never be the same with out you

I see perfection
In every bit of creation
In the mess I leave behind
After cooking a meal,
After planning a trip.

I demand perfection.
I see it, but I can't touch it:
It is an idea
Never to be complete.
To see is to rage,
To touch is to choose reality.

Mediocrity is necessary:
It is all that there is.
It takes eternal time
To reach any kind of completeness.
To exist is to be missing
Sense, parts, matter,
Soul, feelings, rhythm,
Nutrients, flavor, smell,
Roughness, silkiness, deepness.

Ten out of ten
Is a ridiculous possibility.
Six out of ten
Is a step into,
A plausible, reachable,
Achievable
Perfection.

I believe that she's a goddess
in all her female, feline glory
every worry seems to fade
when I stroke her from neck to tail

Pine-tree eyes gazing from underneath the table,
a rarely used mew like the tinkling of chimes,
intricate silkiness intersewn with sable,
and a glinting little bell collar, shining like new dimes

I hardly ever see her,
but she's there when I need her,
as if bleeding saltwater
causes her to feel friendly.

If I ever have to leave this earth,
I want to find the feline hearth,
with all of its eternal worth.

If something,
someone ends me,
That's where she'll send me.

It was the second to last time
that I had you,
curled beside me,
chest rising & falling,
slowly & rhythmically
to the beat of
an *****
I wished more than anything to be mine;
but it was not so.

Taste of liquor still
heavy, weighing between
my slightly pouting lips,
I think a part of me knew,
even then,
that this may be the last time.

Convincing myself,
little did I know this effort
had persisted
nearly a year,
green I was
to hope for more.

Yet hope I did.

Your body felt so soft &
melodious
as it gently greeted my own,
lost in its
hidden intentions,
the music that echoed
against
the cement walls
sounded too loud
& drowned out
notes of rhyme & reason.

Today lay I that song to rest
yet not without again
questioning
the senses felt
come the first exposure
to new lyrics, melodies,
and sounds.

The bitter taste,
his sweet recipe
left upon my tongue,
I will never forget,
nor the smell of the
vanilla candles
and soft feelings
of perceived,
believed silkiness,
I now feel the cold, hard
linoleum
as it presses against my cheek.

Sometime they will
pass, leave me;
until then
the second to last time
is too loud
for this time.

trace
the emptiness of my skin
constellations
connected to the changing
ocean in my eyes
it looks away

roam
your calm eyes
over me
my still form
moving in happiness
when i am sad
see the rain
in my eyes
the way it looks away

twirl
a strand of my hair
in between your finger tips
whisper
to me
of it's silkiness
i will pretend nothing
a storm in my eyes
looking away

taste
my lips against yours
seasoned
by the cool setting sun of autumn
my eyes
ignited gold
my the rays
look away

do you notice
my eyes
after you tell me
over and over
how beautiful
they are

her serenading song
echoes out of Africa

bound for the supermassive singularity
that stabilizes our hearthfire galaxy

a hungry-hearted vision quest
embarked upon

midnight whispers
shared

like satin laces untied
and falling

bare human skin
delicately balanced upon
the sturdiness of geology

entangled quantum edges
caressed with the bullet hole
magnificence

cosmic boasting
of fingertips touching

entropy quelled
in the electromagnetism
of the inherent silkiness
of touch and release

epic cycles of common sense
disregarded

pretty alien machine eyes
stalking prey

in the full light
of a ferocious star

the transparent
kiss of new beginnings

fogging scintillating
soul-windows

until we emerge
crescendoed with stolen breath

splattered into giddy blots
of abstract art

the mystery of love
throttling unrepentantly
in the ******* half darkness

yet in truth I have only
the weakness of haphazard humanity
itching between my toes

so I bow deeply to
the magic of you
which somehow still

splashes us both
with liquid nitrogen embraces
that writhe ecstatically
against the cruelly delineated
boundaries of time's arrow

shattering us into slowness personified
time's children caught mid-air

reveling in the blessing
of their twin heavy stares

oh sky top diamond spark shimmer
how do you fuel love's infinite body ballet?

here I hear the heavens speaking
with mouthfuls of desire
that are somehow not desire

and if only I had more than words for you
brutally carved from the quivering lips

but I am merely a poet marionette
marooned to this asteroid
of sensitivity and outrage

a lone figure shrinking in the distance
as the sound of each plaintive step
hangs like a fruit juicy with longing

and the regenerative shadow
of your beautiful spirit

look how it stretches taller and taller
with each tick of the clock

see the way the kaleidoscope
of your desire

shifts all existence
into fresh perspective

this
at least

is real

this
at least

can never
be taken away

because I love you
and I am broken

the stars and your kiss
are tourniquets

so see the reflection
of yourself in my eyes

before we disappear
as if we were never
here at all

because she makes me feel as peaceful as a lilly soaking up the sun,
i could lay with her for hours,
bare, even when i feel so lackluster,
and she makes me feel like i could melt into the sheets beneath me,
melt with her,
to remind myself that even in the silkiness as we melt i must remember she still holds a flickering flame,
but when i lay with her i feel like i can finally exhale after all these years,
to remind my 15 year old self that it will all be alright,
maybe i should reconsider; people are boring and she is a fire that i will always follow.