"From a series of sonnets"
After we are a tangle of limbs braided,our heat encased within blanketsand our still, feverish forms,I try to listen to the endless beautiful code that your heart makes.You're always trying to tell me somethingwhenever we're not using words.This live wire between...
You wore the moonlight like a secret,a closely guarded confession to bloom against your skin.I was too afraid to touch then,already not knowing how to let gobefore this dangerous rubicon of contact where our hands meet.Even then, I was alreadyclinging too jealously.But...
The song flowed through meas I once moved through you,deeper than any known note,without pride or question.It sang of something so distant,a bond I wanted to touch or torch,maybe I was just jealous,craving a tie so sacred.Maybe it just proves...
"From a series of sonnets"
I felt much younger then,bodies so light with love that we couldalmost be torn apart by a violent wind,leaves battered in December night rain.I listened too closely to a heart pounding against my vulnerable skinto a song that has flown.An engine I...
We did it all for love....After winter's first breath exhaleslike the softest phantom pain,something brought you back to medown in the valley where no oneremembers what we have lost,no one remembers our names in slow motion corteges of bodiesand endless shimmering...
Desire is the one true language that my ravenous tongue speaks upon your bare skin with...Breathes in the scent, your need perfuming us, my tongue silent, yet circling and speaking.Circling swollen nipples slowly, a soft moan as my mouth envelopes one, the vibration...
You touch me and it's like a memorythat I have yet to make,a nostalgia I should not yet know.There was a word for this,something that encapsulated an entire history that may beimpossible to write about.I can feel it before your hand...
Cystalline eyes What simple devotion it isto keep mine so lockedin the beautiful orbs of yours.To see what once endlessly ragedfinally near a blissful calmand know this is no place to end,but the perfect place to start.And a quick flash from...
You whisper that anticipation is everything,you can sense the intensity already...I can feel your words race across my skin,like a faint but palpable wind,summer's final traces of heat,a final secret given to me.Our words are just the catalyst, elements stirring electricity,a...
It's no wonder that the bowis almost shaped as a heart,or a pair of lips so tautfrom the ache in anticipation.This should be obvious by now,our skin animated from contact,a silent contract that survivespast what bodies remember.I'll touch you and...