He walks through the door,
And he holds me tight.
I can feel it already,
Starting to rise.
He picks me up gently,
Throws me down on the bed.
Touches my body,
And kisses my neck.
My hands slide down
His chest,
Looking for the tool,
I need
to fix
my
needs.
We don't use a ******,
'Cause I'm on the pill.
So he unbuttons my jeans,
And I'm begging for more.
He takes of my shirt,
sets it down on the floor.
He takes a deep breath,
As I undo his jeans,
Open my mouth,
Aiming to please.
His hand is on my head,
And I pick up the speed.
He pulls it out,
and I say,
"Put it inside me."
He does what I ask,
And says,
"Oh my god, you're so wet.
And so tight, oh god.."
And he slams into me.
While I begin to scream.
Scream his name,
And scratch at his back.
All fairytales,
Have a happy ending.
He indeed had,
A happy ending.
All over my chest.

I let him in
Through the back door

He alone
Holds the password.

Seldom knocks
But often enough;

Through the tiny peephole
Of the unresolved,

I take the chain
Off the door.

I keep my skirt
While he unbuttons my heart

That door policy is rough
But he earns my trust;

That love hurts
'Til a gentle push.

Unlock
The secrets to my core;

The fissure
Of pleasure

For a full-frontal
Of my soul.

He sneaks
In the back door

Only he knows
The password;

No one is welcome
But one.

her critical thinking gone astray
her tupperware mind seals in the flavor of her intents
nail polish chipped
no ring to show the lay of the land
bright eyed with hints of joys
sunglasses askew
lipstick on her neck
this casual girl
in one brief moment our worlds collide
parking lot of seven eleven
she is a complex song not to be heard
but to be felt with the heart
this casual girl
she unbuttons her shirt
and shows her new tattoo
woven pattern of snakes and flowers
reflection of the mind perhaps
reflection of the casual girl and her inner tears
my heart grips this as she turns to leave
this casual girl
slave to her moment
she must go with the crowd
she must be a popular girl
in that brief moment our worlds collided
she spun like the summer sun free of her tears
she lived for my presence for the first and last time
she desired to speak to me
i never even knew
this casual girl

Slender
you wear
a palatine Ivory
beneath your dress.
I trace the sea of your eyes
with mine.
As you catch your lip between teeth
and tilt your head, beaconing
my gaze with yours.

your smile unbuttons my shirt
and you twist, the wings of your hips,
Urgent, seek my grip.
We find a bedroom.
My back finds the burnished brick
as you push me to it
your hands lead mine
to curve of your waist,
to the loops in your lace.
and all is undone.

Lips sink to neck, to shoulder
To breast, to the pink betwixt your ivory.
and soon we are sundered on linen sheets
like tulip petals after a storm.

“Mrs. Tubb, prepare my raincoat,” he said, “I’m going under the carpet.”
His ears were steaming.
“I’ll be waiting by the hanged stag,” he said. “If it gets to six and I'm still not home, put tobacco in the telephone.”

Down there, at the foot of the stairs, Mrs Tubb’s tears fell to the flattened backwards.
In the middle of the night, whilst she was sleeping,
And without her permission,
He had changed her name to Margot St. Vincent.

“Take off that murderer’s moustache and stretch out on the infamous Chelsea Blackmail Floor.
Ask the biggest bugs to dance,
You may never get another chance.”

The quietly handsome and magnificent Millicent Milligan was feeling rather ill again.
She had been dreaming of the brittle marigolds of Saint Petersburg.
She had been dreaming of pine cones and boiling marmalade.

Her home had fallen into a hole.
It was on the evening news,
But by the following morning they had lost interest,
A mountain had struck a commercial airliner and so no one was much impressed by her Home in Hole Hell.
355 were dead,
And possibly a well known racehorse,
And a corpse in transit who, of course, was already dead, but still, it was vexing for the family.
They found a priest in a poplar tree,
And the head of a hand model at the back of a cave.
(The hands were still intact and were couriered to their agent in a special flask).

Half in, half out of her delicious stockings
Wendice Titian cuts out scissor clippings of her
Sinister yellow sister.

Overnight the years twist.

Edgar Snooker has  heard he is to play ******'s dog on the silver screen.
Edgar Snooker is not a dog.
And the screen was never silver.
And besides, it is not true.
Someone is out to destabilise him.

As posh, brainwashed sausages consult
The Punchline Advisor of Dunkirk,

As the Lord is seen on all fours on His moon
Causing daily electrical police misfortune,

As the masses embark on the clamorous, scattered and impossible journey to disappointed purity,

As her money is without temperament,

As the self-conscious guilt daughter unbuttons her plush helmet,

So the richly magnetised stars are winding down.

As candles whisper in the middle of the road,

As Margot St. Vincent revolves the nickel tap
Of the gas powered knitting plate,

So Father Flynn is inconsolable.
He found a photograph of ****** Bob on top of his wife’s hat.
She denied everything,
Including that she was there at all.
Father Flynn fell for it.
That's faith for you.

for Alice*

The coach party bowled off and quiet descends.
In the white room you sit in the corner of a window seat.
The view to the lake and the trees beyond absorbs your gaze.
Whilst I, though staring at your black stockinged knee, suddenly
Catch the sunlight tumble through your disordered hair.
Beside your cool hands lie two necessary props:
A green bag and, nestling close, your camera;
The extra eye and recording angel of your present art.
 
I am at rest; gathering words to sketch this unplanned pose of your sweet self.
My imagination removes your blue coat, unbuttons your red frock,
The curve of the shoulder then revealed that earlier held me spellbound as you slept.
Though into the silence now come footsteps and desultory conversation,
Your gaze remains caught by the snow on the fell tops
Where above a parliament of clouds determine the possibility of rain.
Know you complement the still beauty of this Lakeland place,
at one with the play of space and the gift of light.

Two strangers walking in the knight.
One glance that seamed to last a life time.
Her smile as bright as the sun.
Her cheeks as red as blood.
The wind seemed to wait for that  moment in time to blow
as her long dark Red hair dances with the wind in the night sky.
His eyes so full of life as they hypnotize you.
With a smile that makes you smile and tingle inside.
The seconds past,  they wondering if they would ever see each other again.
Running from the rain. The same two strangers find shelter under a cherry blossom tree.
As they look up at each other there hearts skip at the same time.
So cold from the rain he can see her breath as it gets faster and faster.
As he takes a step towards her the rain stops.
The moon seemed to smile for them and lights up the night sky so they can see each other.
The moon light rays touch on her face.
His breathing is getting faster.
They move in closer so close they can feel the heat from there body's.
She feels as tho she will melt.
Her body shaking as he moves his hand to her face.
They stand there just staring into each others eyes.
As he moves closer to her his tall broad body blocks out the light from the moon.
She moves to him.  She pulls her hands up as she puts one arm around his neck and the other on his side.
She realizes just how Safe and strong he feels.
He pulls her closer with one hand that wraps all the way around her.
His other hand slides from her face through her hair around to the back of her neck.
So big and strong so many feelings she begins to cry
Her legs give way as he pulls her into him so much that her feet don't touch the ground anymore.
Finally there lips meet so soft his tong so gentle and passionately
dancing with hers.
Her body trammeling feeling as if there were thousands of butterfly's fluttering inside her body.
He pulls back a little this sensation runs through his body.
His heart skips then he jerks her back into him.
There lips never come apart as he picks her up into his arms and takes her into the house.
As they fall onto the bed cherry blossom petals glide over them.
Kissing as he lays her back softly on the bed
He starts to kiss down the side of her neck,
moving across to the front.
He raises up and unbuttons her shirt half way.
He sees how fast and deep her breathing has become,
as he kisses her now naked chest.
She stopped breathing for a seasoned with a gasp
He looks at her with those deep hypnotizing eyes and said
cloudy with rain showers all day.
As she jumps up in bed her alarm is going off with the news man talking about the weather.      6-20-13

I want a man that reads with blue pen,
ink blots a page like he unbuttons my blouse
slow breathy traces from knot to knot
fingers passing every imperfect freckle that dots
his eyes to my skin. Then pause.
I want him to read closely
the blooming scents that escape
my sighs – first quick and salty
anticipating a touch flirtation at my
inner thigh, then a rub, no,
a well placed grasp. I want
him to know when to squeeze
throw down my hair and pace
the heaving contours that flow
more passionately than the Baltic Sea.
Then I want to make waves
make him crash and sway into me
deep until the sheets seem to float
above us and then drop to drape like flags
pull under me once again reading
my gaping breaths now heavy
like a volcanoes peak, tasting the raspberry
magma of my tongue. I want a man
to study the life lines of my erosion,
know where they crack and ache
and split into new directions.
I want a man to know
the geography of my desire.

I didn't want for her to kiss me
But I'm not sure what to do
Now she's tugging at my clothes
And I'm not sure if I want to;
All my friends said go for it, shes fit fine and cute
Why the **** not? What are you some type of *****?
But surely it's up to me what I do in the ****,
Is my choice if I do or don't want to.

Now she’s kissing more aggressive
And I'm not kissing back
As her hands run along my body
I wonder if asked for that
Did I give all the signals,

Do I beg for the touch?
Just cause I don't say no doesn’t mean I haven't had enough.

I feel a bit dizzy with all the drink
I stumble and she’s right there ready to catch me.
My whole world seems to spin,
She asks if need to lie down,
I nod and she grins
So she leads now to what is the scene of the sin
She pushes me on to the bed, the mattress cushions my fall
And I curl up my legs to my chest to form a ball,
I think it’s all over, finally I can get get some rest
And wake up in the morning to nothing more than a memory I'll forget

But she gets right next to me
So I close both eyes,
I wish that she won't,
But to my surprise
Again no words come out
The only thing leaving my mouth
Is her snake tongue as she slithers in and out.

The next parts a blur
While she gets hers
And I'm just lying there
While she unbuttons my shirt.
I'm doubting myself, is this all I'm worth?
Is this what happens to them all
While she gets hers?
And she's kissing my neck
Long wet kiss weighing heavy
And I'm angry and upset
Confused and hurt
She never asked she just took
But I can't help but think I must of asked for this.

Now she grabs it and tugs, forces it in
Seared in my brain is that sly cheshire grin.
Maybe this was the moment when the fault became mine;
I should have pushed her off
Instead being another rabbit caught in the lights.
But my strength was gone I just feel so weak
Surely soon it will be over then I can sleep.
The slapping of skin bounces off the walls and slaps me,
Shes calling me names while riding viciously
Saying I love it, not asking if she should stop
Or how I am, she’s slowly killing what makes me feel like a man
But how, how can she not see
This is not what I wanted?
She must be able see the tears, Recognise the fear,
It must be my fault or surely we wouldn't be here.
No person would do this to another out of choice
She must be just as confused
I should have used my voice
I should have said no
But now it’s too late, I've lost all control.

She's done and moves off slowly
Her heavy breaths makes me gag reflexively

I feel ***** and used I just wanna cry,
Surely she’s not a ****** the fault must be mine?
I should have shouted for help
I should have put up a fight
I should have screamed no
Till it echoed in the night

At least now it's done
I can start to forget,
Bury it deep inside of me and move on with what’s next.
But it doesn't go away,
It lingers and stays
It not easy to forget when you’re made to make love
Cause isn't that what it is more than just another ****?

And that’s what we forget,
So I'm speaking to all the women and men
Because the key word is consent
And the absence of consent doesn't mean that you can
Use your voice before you steal from another human.

©Gregory Loftman

10:18
scrolls through phone
10:21
sighs
10:22
forcefully unbuttons jeans
angrily pulls them off
winces in pain
10:25
grabs laptop in determination
10:29
my mind is drifting....i think of you,
i see you around me, i touch you, i breathe your name, i'm surrounded by a manifestation of you
i can't take you i want you away from me
i can't take you i want you near me
10:48
time sure fly's when you come across my mind
in my mind
you are my mind
10:49
foc...us
us
focusing on us
10:51
i played with caution but you and time teamed up together and aimed to tease me, to torture me, to bring me pleasure where i see distress
a sick sense of satisfaction
flows unto my vice
it's a two way street
or maybe a 6 way street
maybe a city
with all these vices collectively linked
i detach
reminiscent
of us
focus
fo...***
**** us
11:10
**** us
11:15
**** us again
11:30
**** me
11:31
i wonder what he wants from me?
i wonder what he feels for me
what he see's in me
what he really thinks of me
does he see inside me or does he just want to be inside me
whatever
11:40
hah..the feelings faded
back to you being nothing
until the next time
11:41
i think of you and smile, gently,appreciating in mock admiration

Shall I compare thee to a summer's eve?
Tell you to cleave even though I know your name's not Steve?
Your eyes so white, a future with you so real.
Waiting for you like a parched farmland wait for the rains,
promises yet unspoken hoping you'll redeem.
The sun sets over the horizon, another day draws to a close.
As I hope in this love story, in the end I won't lose.
Reaching through the darkness, hoping to grasp a little of the unknown.
Love eludes me, like peace taken off the streets of Borno.
How shall these things be??
Like that garden valentine's story, I want to be your Eve.
But before you, there was one.
He has managed my heart like you've never had.
He sees right through me into you.
"Do you love me"? I ask Him.
And His reply makes yours seem like a child's play.
I understand that until you love Him, you cannot love me.
And until you love Him, I cannot love you.
Until we love Him, Valentine's day would be nothing more than shades of red and blue.
So before you give her that red rose, do you know the Lilly of the valleys?
Girl, before you melt under that candle light
Do you know light Himself?
Before your skirt rides up to your waist
And those hands skim over skin
Before she unbuttons your shirt
Before you forge out of "love"
What you are supposed to give birth to in love...
This triangular love story
Him, me and whoever is willing to complete it.
Before you come bearing promises wrapped in circles of gold
Put a ring on this triangle
Else me and you can only keep being parallel friends.
Journeying to nowhere

Redemption

1. Happy Joe Lucky

Happy go lucky Joe trusts cheerfully to
Luck and never worries about the future.
To be lucky is to be wise, but some say Joe’s
Good luck is also his foolhardiness.

Joe never evades love.
He never shuns demands.
He never dodges conflict.
He never inhibits invitations.

2. Carla Maria Mendoza

The ballroom invites Carla out of the
Repressive hole she has spent her life in.
As the dancers whirl past she wipes away
Tears trickling down her astonished cheeks,
Aware that her knees have started to move.

She is working more intensely than at
Any time since she was five; her tears are
Joy and the look on her face is elation.
Carla is re-charging her batteries,
Taking the world in, weighing it all up.

Carla thinks by moving in unison,
These dancers shake off futile defeats.
More than anything she wants to lose her
Divided self in their collective world
And have pleasure unite her many parts.

She needs lifting out of her oppressive
Disquiet, her relentless struggle to stay
Alive, to be reborn on the dance floor.
Dancing as a child was miraculous
And she’ll be a magical child again.  

3. Joe and Carla

Carla moves gently up and down,
Thinking that fruit is rewarded with
Sweetness after months of bitterness.
Joe sees the intense piety of her moves
In silence; his words would shroud the
Ecstasy of her actions in obscurity.

Smiling, Carla unbuttons her shirt.
She remembers the angel of death
Gliding gracefully into her bedroom,
Displaying his impressive wings.
She’ll never be afraid to die alone.
No one enters Joe’s world lightly.

Joe offers Carla-Maria his hands.  
She opens her arms; her coat falls.
Every dancer watches as Carla takes
Joe’s hands and slowly shuffles one
Foot forward and then the other.
Joe’s archaic life glows with intensity.

The life of a sensualist is not an illusion.
Brief encounters and chance events are
Ephemeral but noble, they’re like gifts of
Abundant moisture from a virile earth.
Joe bends his knees, willing Carla’s love
Of pleasure to bloom. Her bliss is close.

Not expecting a dance to occur, Joe
watches Carla shuffle forward wearing
A smile that has the countenance of one
Who deserves a reward. She’s sharing a
Thing that’s close to poetry, carrying
Out an act of justice that’s long overdue.  

Seeing the disquiet that has filled Carla’s
Days, Joe whispers gentle words in her ear.
Let your action start at your heart, move
It to your back and send it down your legs.
All eyes are directed at Carla who is snared
In the carnal existence of ballroom dancers.

Reticence is about to engulf her when she
hears Joe whispering again. Be indulgent.
Carla’s knees bend and straighten just like
She did as a child. The physical beauty
of her movement is like a sumptuous gift,
It’s is the action that will change her life.

This is Carla’s redemption, the move she
has hung her dreams on, a new commotion
In her life that will cause her heart to know
Of a love that operates beyond the realms of
Legend, where she can sing to the stars and
Fill the heavens with her growing pleasure.

Cold gust unbuttons my warmth;
surprisingly, I spot a new restaurant
serving crepes. I am pigeon about
a crepe is. Wonder if it has crumbs
and if they're precise, contaminating
to tidy degrees;

a strange invigoration switches itself
to the sour vehicular horns, that reminds me
of a child who wanted candy off the floor
but was restrained by the threat of imprisonment
as the train cut through Kerala. But the insistence
of the horns is more insistent, their peal
course-correcting to petty nose squinting.
I can hear the metallic lip curl,
the engine revolting at the judgment of the pedestrian
(an opinion of which I'm innocent)
of a vocal car as a wanton idiot, the kind
that still believes that cheetos will come back.

I'm gonna go down
Maybe in pain
But it ain't over yet

My life has been hospitals
But I could not forget

16 years old
She unbuttons my jeans
Eyes closed. Warm and wet.

Decades later
My letter to you
Pascal's wager bet

                      Let ...