S & M

I surmise today that sly slicker is being played here.

I state solemnly, all suits and sways who be slowly

streeting down the walkway. Singing salty pleads to seeds solicitous

hope to slither in my lady’s garden. I state here this Sunday

that all suits and sways who be slowly streeting down the

walkway to sweep those sweaty sacs to the curb when my Satin-Flower

comes swaying. Save the scraps and squalls for some other broads.

Because my Sweet Sapphos will always swelter in splendid spring for me

For she sincerely loves my pussy.

&

This is for those mean mannish macin mavericks that dont know

my mistress’s favorite meals are my mac lips on make-up.

Don’t know that her hum’s are meaning filled memories that grows more

marvelous as we continue to bring moments alive.

They don’t know that minors combined with majors becomes our moans

is just as melodic music more magically than magic

itself to me when muttered. 

Mavericks do not understand, that misgivings doesn’t matter anymore,

only maturity matters.

That and every meticulous minuscule atomic-maelstrom making itself

beyond the moon with her and I, only matters to me. Oh and this magnanimous mouth

sincerely loves tasting her pussy.

paper, on it was love poème written in french

I am a string of paper dolls clipped to a clothes line, blank as a newborn baby hanging in the sunshine. where am I going? what am I doing here? i am starting to think that the people hanging up here with me are too much like how I used to be. waiting to be snipped down and used for something. Always waiting. All waiting. we are all waiting.

for 3 years I have screamed at the heavens, for giving me paper-cuts. what are we supposed to do with these, i asked. i cursed myself for drenching my already fragile skin with alcohol, make-up and lighting on fire rolled blunt tips.

my paper throat burned with a New Year affair and a knife named lust. I was dead before the first slit, drunk off the first sip, and lecherous at the first thrust. delirious and masculine. he was masculine and I was delirious. but only for a couple months, a couple hours, just a seasonal fancy.

I woke up today and I was no longer hanging by myself. A broken flower came and snipped me down. placed me in her backpack and pedaled me around. 

Love poem (Three word Wednesday)

Dear Sky,

Your suppleness clouds my novice thoughts

so much I become light in my own body

A heavy tar escapes from my grounded flesh.

As a way to give you a kiss of gratitude I must ignite, into ash 

billowing smoke signals. And when my gesture of affection 

rises softly and gently. I sear into my chest the words 

'With this distant eternal melancholic hearts 

I'll long for you.' Just as I kiss you on the cheek

Love,

Earth.

A bloody relationship

I fill the hollow inside your bones.
And pounding on your ear, till I become known.
Do you feel me run my fingers calmly
along the sides your chambers?

I have no choice but to float
as you force me, pump me, and push me.
Do you feel me behind your eyes
As I see you before mines?

I turn cold inside your shivers.
So please dont feed me too much sugar
and clog up our world with too much
fucking syrup and honey.

Cracks in the side walk appears
as soon as I think of her.

tristful (meaning sorrowful or gloomy)

I only wanted to pull your halo down
not watch it slip around your neck.
You burned not just you but us
and your smoke rose to make a cloudy grave
in our heaven.

Even as I choked on your embers,
I still wanted to bring you back to me.
Except you hovered too high
above the ground instead.
Just out of my reach.

Your mouth tasted too hollow to speak
Anything besides half-truths and empty lies.
So I turned my face into your palms to kiss
your cold wrists and cry
under your dangling dirty feet.

Perfect little Moments

I like the way you kiss my shoulder. You like how I turn my head and smile at your affectionate gesture, and we both like when we press our lips together to complete the moment.

vellicate draft

vellicate \VEL-i-keyt\, verb:

1. To touch (a body part) lightly so as to excite the surface nerves and cause uneasiness, laughter, or spasmodic movements

My touch caused you all three. But its the uneasiness that worried me the most. The reason for this I guesstimate, is because of the being or presence growing inside you, simmering just under the skin, stretching out its yet not formed shape, and lounging its body as it tries to fill your every space. It's just me.

Its not you in particular that causes this me inside to come alive. Really its our closeness...and when I use 'you' in this insistence I really mean 'me'. I feel myself inside of you. Obviously, this is pure narcissistic on my part, this projecting, but it better than talking to the mirror.

I use the excuse of being instantly distraction by your voice to explain my actions, such as suddenly kissing you. Im becoming more responsive to the sounds around me. More so then I have ever been before. Especially when you whisper.

Kissing.

Is the easiest sound to understand. I kiss you because I want taste your sound and feel our music being created. Its uncontrollable infatuation...And so I do it without a second thought. I lied, I dont really understand it...at all. Why does this thought make me feel so small? Oh well it gives me to room to expand, I guess. But I can definitely go without the contradictions of the human condition.

Potential growth. Us expanding, she and I. I'm smiling as I write this. Brief memories we have already made. Together. When you are near me. Strange but not unusual, new and frightening things happen. I am given cool rain instead of firey passions. The grass. Tears of glorious frustration. Bridges on horses and music in the benches. My chest already ache, just a tiny bit because she is already missed.

While...

Between A and Z words are at war with each other. Thrown around black cannons, and little figures waiting for their turn to give speeches are picked off one by one. Blood splatters the ground poets march their rhythms on. And English linguistic and grammatical terms containing explanations for useless art comes up missing in all the organized chaos.

But after the plans for victory are accomplished I should take you by the hand. Vellicating your palm with my fingers, while waving to the crowd as they chant our names. The masses are dead, as heavy be the heads that wears the crowns.

Over the bridge

It was a pretty moon hanging in the sky, waxing gibbous she pointed out. I like how astronomy turns up in the most random of places. I can say the class wasnt a complete waste. While I was in a silly mood, long before I saw her from where I laid in the grass. I found myself giggled to bits as I ran into her arms when she showed.

Affectionate.

We stood close to one another, always in constant touch. And if we did separate it was not for long. It wasnt hard for me to get a read on her as I saw bits of myself in her eyes. In the tone she used and the way she liked me to hold her.

If I didnt properly know the meaning of restraint before, I do now.

Her kisses werent rushed or hurried. Pressing our lips together like she had all the time in the world. Which essentially we did. And It was like taking a sip of cool water. Cooler than the flowing water below our feet. Dripping over my dry mouth, I was a dehydrated woman. If anything I am still thirsty.

Relapse pt 2

She thought about her yesterday and yet again today. Snippets. Of them dancing. subtlety was never her strong point, but it was adorable to watch.

She was so drunk off the world they created. Slight swaying side to side they danced, in the tiny room. Around each other in conversations. Pillow talk. Drawn out others time. Light from the window shining in to her eyes. She have memories of drowning in those eyes.

Tomorrow will bring holding hands and letting go.

--

"How can love be so kind and gentle then turn and be so cold? And why must my arms be so empty for what my heart still holds." -Musiq Soulchild

Playing now
Musiq Soulchild Mary-go-round

Poker

The Queen of poets
Lays out her muse in me
A women with spaded verse poetry
But together we form good pair of
Words and music

Merry-go-Round

My mind is feeling so empty, just like a lone bench surrounded by filled seats. Mary how could you go, and dance around me so.

And when the ride is done, I am afraid of how strong my heart will still be holding on. Tightly palm to palm with you, watching as everyone get off.

Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me but I could have sworn the consuming lips against mine was just a momentary chill. But I realized it was just another start at another round.

If no one understand the dizziness, then it would be just you and me who will sit and just ride.

Kiss

I’m kissing you
Be it because
of the boldness
in my body or
the stubbornness
of my soul.

As our lips
touch I pray you
be proud and
never bitter cold.

For I can
never be prideful
of what I use
to be and but if
this is done right
I will never
be ungrateful for
your heat.

Final Portfolio Piece

Buried in the sea

You look at her
As she looks at you.

And swore if vanity had a face it would be
seen through her eyes.

Her name rolls off the tongue
in a cool seduction that chills your thoughts.

The wicked whispered word
turns your mind into a whirlpool. I was warned

but I wasn’t fast enough to
evade her incoming venom and stop it from spreading.

With slender fingers she buried me,
in her sea of black roses. But left me bathing

in the ground, with my head high enough to stop me
from drowning. As her slowly toxin work its way down

Portishead

Give me a reason to love you,
Give me a reason to be a women
I just wanna be a woman.

Warms pumps scrambling to move away for her walk
Give me a reason be....

Just wanna be...Free.

Not going to stop her from being the man.
I just wanna be a women.
I wanna be so...so...So!

Treat me like a fucking women.

Jumping part 2

This is a farewell to Ms. Jane. The whore hanging
on my back. The sea winds never sung so loudly before,
with my ears plugged of her calls.
The world has never been so bright before, but
was still tinted with bloodshot vision.

The demon didn't have wings, so she crawled instead on ashy
elbows. And laid her head on my pubes. I was blind, my eyes are wide the fuck open now. Watching, as she jumps from bed to bed and I made sure to step out of the way so she would’t fall on my dick.

No babies because her thin tubes, were tight tied
around her fucking neck, and the lack of oxygen must be driving her mind
away from sanity, if she think she could still be mine.
I say think again Ms. Jane

by your side

It isnt all about your apitite. Dont speak I cant hear you with my ears still hungry for more silence. I will give you big smiles and always be by your side, while wearing invisible black eyes and bruised housewife thighs.

Cocorosie
Swiming stillborns girls and fem love story blues.

The bull and the sand crawler

Today she ran into an old lust. Smiling when she came and lightly touched her sides and stood beside her as she waited in line. Her skin didnt become warm nor was she at a lost of words looking in her eyes.

Oh but She did smile at the moments they had together and she did quiver when a flash of their adventures under the sheet passed over her eyes. A short teenage affair. Very sexual. She was a Scorpio, just like mother.

Always been attracted to good sex. But watching her walk away without saying goodbye she knew without a doubt that Scorpio would never be able to stand next to this Taurus, without getting crushed and this Taurus standing next to that Scorpio without getting stung.

Kissing Sin

Her mouth tasted hollow from all the empty truths and half lies. Indulging me, only because she couldnt be alone, shouldnt be alone, wouldnt be along

Kissing stopped the asking. Why did you do it again?

You should have known her eyes said as sinned lips closed in on mine.

Dont tap on the glass please and dont Cut my heart open

Her tongue was such a sharp knife. She loved running the dull side of the blade down her pane. All the while tapping the clit clack of her moans in sync to her pouring rain.

Razor blade shouldn't be played with, especially near such one with such an unknown glass. She may get the urge to draw heart on the skin with her warm breath. Though its starting to crack.

Grey tape can fix anything because she knew she will never learns to stop tapping on the past.