Monthly Archives: June 2014

Why does it feel…

Why does it feel
like an eternity
since I kissed those lips?
When in reality
it’s merely been but a breath
that is yet to be exhaled
Why does it feel
as though my flesh
has been left abandoned?
When in reality
my limbs, my neck, my breasts
still bear bruises of your bite
Why does it feel
so long ago
that you held me close?
When in reality
the warmth of your touch
still smolders deeply inside
Why does it feel
like forever ago
that I got lost in your eyes?
When in reality
neither you
nor I
have blinked
since

20140627-150650-54410221.jpg

I don’t often write of love.

I don’t often write of love.
Sure, I may occasionally pen
‘Love
You’
Directed as a suggestion, more so than a profession. Yet, who am I to suggest such a thing? For I, myself know not what it means.
Sure, I’m familiar with the term, have used it broadly in exclamation of intensity, but what confusion simply using one word can often bring. I am a mother, a grand one at that. No, not a boast, I’m just that old. My love for these beings is undoubtedly the most intense I’ve experienced. Yes, I know I’d lift a car if one happened to be between me and the moment of ones life and death. This love, is without question. But upon reflection, would I find such strength, such a will within myself, to lift said burden from crushing me? History has proven to me, no. Now that’s not to say that my future reads as bleak, not admitting I find myself unworthy, it’s simply reminding myself that’s it’s only me, that will ever stop me from feeling truly worthy, of love.
I love to write of lust! The thrusts of such carnal toe curling throes, flows so easily from my pen. Again, I wonder if it’s because I feel safer with the boundary that using the word ‘lust’ over ‘love’ implies.
To be totally truthful, ‘love’ scares the absolute fuck out of me.
That single moment of undeniable vulnerability simultaneously makes me ache in yearning to taste, and hide my heart away… in aid of what, keeping it safe? Love of ones Self, is no doubt my life’s goal. Well, a challenge so far, but a goal none the less… Love of and for another, that love that has kept the hands and hearts of poets occupied for eons of time, and will continue to do so for eternity I suspect, yes, that love, terrifies me. I mean, honestly, allowing one soul to reach in, behind every mask I adorn, strip me of all pretense, cull me of any shelter, bare me of these layers that I’ve tirelessly placed in self preservation, of protection, against breaking, against being taken, as a fool, as a love sick fool…yep…terrified!
And what of the moment of realization that on paper, the realities simply do not connect all the dots, yet the way every moment of every single day is completely drenched by thoughts of how they make you feel, complete, worthy, wanted, needed. Is that enough? Is that love? Or just another lust that wears a cloak of blood pumping greed? Does love even need to make sense? Or is that the whole purpose? It never does, never will? Is that the hurdle that must be leapt? The edge of the cliff that must be found? The jump, the fall, the not knowing if you’ll crash n burn or flap n soar?
Fucked if I know! All I’m sure of is that I don’t often write of love.
For I, myself know not what it means…

20140625-111623-40583910.jpg

Ready… Or not……

Sensory overload
swirling within her core
All stored desires writhing
in awakening ache
to be freed

Stricken by greed
her long forgotten plead
now replaced by fingertips
of deeply gauging need

To feed
her only goal

Utter intoxication
of a sinful nights scent
completely sweeping
her arching spine

She crawls
prowling with the prowess
of a skilled killer beast
beneath a well rounded moon

Her swelling starvation
stirring growls of hunger
rolling in silent storms
behind a finely refined
lip bitten grin

She was famished
salivating in salvation
of savouring each new flavour
as it dripped from the fresh flesh
of her next unsuspecting victim

Ready…..
…………..Or not…….

20140614-200821-72501874.jpg