The churchman said we would burn I would have told him how my insides ache Burning every dawn, noon till dusk. I would have told him how I am consumed in fires of mixed emotions Lustful events and regretful satisfaction, Dark aching desires and gnawing reminiscence Palpable anger and ravenous hunger, I...
Dec
The inexpressible angst that grips and knots my stomach tight The emptiness that settles in The sharp forked pain in my chest I get anxious when the sun is setting My whole self on pins and needles when the sun departs from the sky Ripping of my heart to a...
Oct
Lost in July cold with a stranger in a strange café The chill rises and leaves from feet up to the hairs at the nape- as a spirit leaves the body. Cold with a stranger across the café table. Warm smile, Flushes of emotions Curling up like the mimosa Ripples of cold...
Sep
The nights get anxious when they think of me. The days await dusk for a momentous sigh of relief The cold gets chills when I speak, when I whisper. I want to break into a monologue, maybe a hum, maybe a wail And tell my secrets. I want to...
Jun
That last day in April, You will remember the fire that was in my eyes, dancing But then you were the water carelessly extinguishing it. That last day in the cold of April You will look at the hearth and think of me And your efforts to make a...
Jun
Who hopes to find water amidst a fire? To quell a fierce rage, so fiery Because I, Start and dance in those fires No trouble, I get scorched not. How about we get married, How about away we get carried, Intense feelings driving us to such absurdity. He was desperate, I was lonely, And...
Feb
When he asks you how many kissed your sun, tell him. Smile and show him how their fingers traced the ridges and edges of your petals. If he asks you how many opened you up and read you, Word by word, And the spaces in between with intermittent pauses,...
Jan
This is for all the boys with fingers longer than their feelings For all the boys who touched without touching and left imprints heavier than life. For those who could never stretch their emotions enough, This is for you whose heart is so empty and hollow...
Jan
I am the kind of woman who loves with eyes closed I am the kind that loves with open thighs And laughs with my eyes. And who cares if I stand and open my legs like an easel Eagerly waiting for a dripping pen to touch my canvas! Why do...
Dec
It is warm, wet and easy With a promise of ecstasy. A promise of leisure When the arousals demanded pleasure. The once pretty pink petals Picked and pricked at a price! Ravishing strokes of manhood. Drinking from the nectar fountain. Once learning to love on the back, While earning in lust. Oh the dark alleys,...
Dec