Posted in Poetry

missing.

how can i miss
what i never had
you ask
but i did have you
and still possess

the words spilled
on my dress
the magic marker
highlights the stars
spread under the hem

this horizon
never ending
we agree to never
wash our hands
again -your grin

wiped clean by tide
a rinse cycle failure
and the poison drunk
as one forever
unto our death

in obedience we sunk

Posted in Poetry

retreat.

this whispered touch
middle finger caress
splits open -borders
a wounded heart
to bleed love
and flow your way

dreamt you held
these broken bones
crushed dream -hoarder
i offered you
my orange creamsicle
spiked with fear

perched atop
you slink below
covered silk -corridor
i whisk away…
you needed more
rain to pour

chasing me into trouble
under the gun -again
and now i will never be free

Posted in Poetry

trap

falling
into the same damn -cycle
a trap of seduction
change the subject
make me the crazy bitch
the heartless fox

spineless
bends to part waters
fill buckets
to carry them home
drink at my expense
and watch me drown.

Posted in Poetry

dangerous

dangerous
game she’s playing
in a field of men
grabbing
misbehaving
he stands
in a corner
waiting
praying
she finally stays
resting
digressing
into her old ways
illusions of love

Posted in Poetry

pathetic

this strikes at the heart
-love, bondage to you

felt the river flow through
the winding path I dug
laid with rock and bloom

dies faster than i did
wrapped in arms
germinating hope

a callous smile
i failed to read

God bless this man
-i was, the greatest dope.

Posted in Poetry

i
do not
desire to be
soft with you, warned
about using the other -amidst
dark and light angelic beings
the grueling battle between
rubble left behind,
our bodies
castaway.

Posted in Poetry

peril

The deepest,
darkest
rises in the fog,
burned away -hidden desire.

Oh, why feel
so free
behind the screen?

And how our creator
tapped into the sensual,
leaves us mourning
the loss of soul.

Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Attending the Opera

— Read on Fabric on the Daily Post

What are we willing to give up? What would i find behind your curtain as i swing it aside? Have you, will you, consider letting me know?

I wait. Anticipate. Is this a game eagerly played by two? Or only i?

Am i setting myself up for your opera. Life over as fast as it started. Slow. Drawn out misery. Ending with a cry of freedom!

A peek behind the madness of death exists behind every curtain. It matters not your fabric woven. The rapacious appetite for breath carries us along.

I do not plan to go anywhere. Neither behind your curtain. Or stand before it. I want to be your covering. Shield you from peering eyes.