[x]

Loss of MemoryI forgot.

It is a tragedy that I failed to remember
just how fond I am of the naked,
waiting space on a man's neck
where his clavicle meets his throat.
It is just perfect for my mouth.

I can run my imagination, and my tongue,
along the inflexible structure under the skin
and then
delicately sink the flexible tip
into the shadowy curve behind it.
The slight tang and salty flavor
of his warm, now wet skin under my mouth-
I forgot how good it tastes, how superb it smells-
as I pursue the rest of his body with the restless
press of mine.

Uncharted

    tonight

cradling lonesome to my naked breast

he found me on the edge of midnight
   an uncharted land, waiting to be discovered.

mountains, plains and valleys
   an untamed river yet to be named,
laid forth before his questing spirit.

he was the solitary envoy,
   a master at discovery,
   occupying with permission the humid lush rainforest
and quenching the desert thirst.

determined, he left nothing in darkness
   uncovering every crook and crevice
and bathing them in light and heat.

&

TemptatiousI am
  delicate and yielding
like a memory wrapped in mussed silk crimson sheets
   legs intertwined
   thighs demanding

I am
   as strong as steel
forged by the heat of your hands and the melt of your mouth
   fingers seeking
   eyes searching

I am
  exposed and fragile
like the delicate rushing point just before the crashing climax
   lips parted
   tongues sparring

I am
   simplistic complexity
bound by the power of chemistry, beyond the point of return

Without Grace~February 1998~

Both of my hands rest on the gentle swell of my abdomen. Standing in front of the window above the sink, I draw invisible magic circles on the skin over the baby girl nestled inside my expanding body. I stare out the window at nothing, while a tiny smile plays upon my lips. My eyes may not see, but my imagination is in full swing; I am dreaming wide awake. It is a parent's natural inclination. I see puppies, ribbons and lace, school buses, tears, phones, boys, books and hands clasped with matching gold bands.

We are close, she and I. We share the same breath, the same nourishment. She startles when I do and she doesn't

SunriseYesterday, I had an epiphany.

It came to me in a flash, as epiphanies often do.

I realized that with some people, no matter your proximity,
your heart just finds ease and rest.

Your heart finds a home.

And the thing about homes is, they aren't perfect. Ever.

Happy homes aren't always happy, but love still fills them.
[anger isn't necessarily bad, either. we fight. we make up. ebb and flow.]

Good homes have laughter and tears.

Homes are safe places to be who we are on the inside, the real us.

Loving homes are places you grow as a person, places free from harsh and punitive judgments.

Home. Where your heart is [accepted, loved,

Sweet CravingsMost of the time,
   I don't need you.
Most of the time,
   I don't crave you.
Most of the time,
  I am not drawn to you
like a smile to a pair of plump rose colored lips.

But there are days, times, hours, torture filled

m o m e n t s

   when you call to me
   when you tempt me
   when I know nothing will satiate
like you.

The simple, undiluted, unvarnished truth
is this-
   I love the way you taste.

The instant I bring you to my mouth,
   and slip you gently past my lips
(seduction)
when your flavor bursts and

PhobetorI rest in sleep
when he enters and
hovers beside me.
surveying my sleeping form
his soft visual caress takes in my bare feet
peeking out from under the blanket.
his all seeing gaze notes
my naked legs cozy under the covers.

     he glides up the bed
     a sense of anticipation gathering;
     he licks his devilish lips.
     my dark unbound hair dresses the pillow
     and he leans in close to inhale its
     warm coconut scent.

my eyes begin to d

Missing KissingI miss kissing.

I miss the pretty ones
like Valentine poetry
soft and gentle
(unhurried)
imbued with the essence
of
languid, leisurely, lingering
romance.

These kisses taste,
as well as
feel.

They move-
traveling from lips, to jaw, to ear
and
back
again.

I miss another type of kiss too,
the one that consumes.

It blazes through every fiber
of being
including setting alight the
gentle
Valentine
and leaving it in
ashes.

This kiss mimics warfare-
it is a battle of two
to seize and possess
to pillage
taking hostage words and concrete thought- &#

Worn Empathyyou and I have a bit of a problem.
I think you might be in the dark about a few things
so
why don't I shed a little light.

you crave my kindness, my clever words, you ask for more
and yet you return them with a sardonic slap
why? (rhetorical question here, please don't bother answering.)

are you so skeptical of a kindness that you request
that you give in to your fear and strike to hurt?
let me tell you a tiny trifling little secret…you can't hurt me.
(I said that very slowly and with a modest amount of sneering venom.)

because guess what, little one?
I have looked evil in the eye, I have had its stinking form cover me
once

Sunset tonight
the burnt orange sky
was impressed
with darkening lavender bruises...

and
I thought of you

Recollectionyou are mystery,

   painfully
   silent,

slipping through my fingers;

I had you once, didn't I?

Velocitythe velocity at which
my heart propelled itself
forward and out
of the shelter and protection
    of my flesh
    of my bones
left me mute.
stunned.
lost in bloody
disarray.

damn.

I am woman enough
to admit it is a
    painful
    messy
slippery business,
attempting to force it back
into its rightful place.
but-
I am
working on it.

damn. squared.

Everlasting       While Night's smile lingers,
    as he pursues the moon nestled deep within the sparkling sky-
                place your dreams in a kiss upon your hand and whisper them softly skyward.
    Waiting, I shall catch them with my smile and hide them within my heart,
           keeping them warm with the breath of my erratic heartbeat.
       But, as only the best things do, it will only last as long as forever.
       Forever is all I have to offer.
      While the distance between us and Forever creeps steadily forward,
I will gently descend into your silence and know;
           your desires, I will fulfill.

DesirousDesirous—
     enveloping and preserving, we
fall into an endless age of
soft skin
rough hands
and stars that blind
behind closed eyes.

Time Divides—
     a great gulf churns,
filled with a cacophony of our secrets,
needs and desires separating the press of today from
soft skin
rough hands
and your dark eyes that bind me.

Like A Mirror.
     the sweetest sighs
layered upon, drenched within and
threaded through,
my soft skin
with your rough hands and resonant voice-
hearing my heart's desire through the shroud of this surface.

See. Behold. Embrace. Entwi

Love ProsetryI am living a lost life, caught somewhere in-between a field of dreams and a den of nightmares.  Something awful has happened, something beautiful.   The collision of the two has left me speechless, drifting in a semi-state of silent insanity and wordless wonder.

Expression dripped elsewhere in the absence of speech.  I made a decision. I took a giant silent step.

I wrote something for you today. But…I decided your eyes will never see the words.  I doubt you would find fault with the style, flow or meter; they glide like an eagle soaring on the thermals, smooth and majestic and pleasing.

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GoneHave ever felt bone weary?
A different type of tired, it's one that takes root inside your body.
It snakes like tree roots, twisting and turning inside of you infiltrating every muscle, bone and sinew.
Once it has completed its enveloping trip through your body, it then turns focus to your mind.
A once sharp thing, is dulled and filled with numbness.
The simple thing becomes complex; memories become harder to grasp.
It then insists on completing its mission by haunting your soul, sinking its teeth into the last remaining thing that defines who you are. The thing that makes you you.
Weary is a joy stealer.
Wear

AblazeLike stars, words burn. Choose wisely.

Just a questionHow do you measure time?
Does it ebb and flow?
Race like the wind?
Surround and embrace?
Drown?

Do you measure time by
         the ticks on a clock's face;
         by words, weeks and numbers;
         appointments, achievements, and accolades?

Do you measure with moments past
          white lace and roses;
          wine and song;

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Submitted: October 8, 2012
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Succumb

by *dragon-fly-to-me, Oct 8, 2012, 8:55:38 PM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / Erotic / Free Verse

head thrown back,

tendrils of her hair, a cascading fall of water and sense.

the dancing curve of her exposed throat,

a gasp caught there in the shadows—alive with promise.

the space behind the curving arch of her back,

hollow and hallowed, forgotten for the moment.

the press of parted lips against the space above her erratic heartbeat--

yours to claim, yours to cherish.

yours to satisfy.

here, there is no pride, no past, only passion shared.
here, you give in order to receive.
here, you are you until you are not--
until you lose a sliver of that unique identity to become something bigger;
abbreviated to us.

an allegiance of desire.
an alliance of submission.

a privilege of love.

yield.
resign.

succumb.