Vengeance (day 848)

What’s left is desire curving up and down
Raising vengeance on soiled ground
Pushing upwards against tippy-toes
Leaving questions marks as far as one throws

Thumbs make the trip in another womans clothes
Carefully calculating unending curls; silently she goes
Lips so daringly inviting, posed in a mock snarl
Spreading infectiously around an exposed eye; caught, ensnarl

And here, where blush in subtle tones enchants, nay, flutters a heart into flight
Digging down deep to indulge in a bite
These tones accentuate criss-crossing lines
Making their way in and out of my mind

Exposed breasts splayed out from a white button up shirt
There too plays a belly button housing a tiny orb of flirt
And lyrics written cross her left rib cage
Time has stopped here. Time has stopped and forgotten all age

Packed away misunderstanding and coffee breaks
Shackling the lonesome cowboy with unending shakes
While pushing up sleeves on another silver lining
Another smooth caress of subtle defining

Another asymmetrical button bridling the fire
Of an angel floating about on tips of desire
Sending all exposed reeling from an unconscious slip
That puts reason behind an eager crack of the whip

Ruckus, and Other Saintly Practices (day 776)

Touch me as I lose control of my breath
Lower my eyes into the depths of fire
Invite my courage to span this low lit mood
Rumble over my curves like the moon
Encourage my glow to seek thy skin
With an eruption of goosebumps
Curl around my exposed knees
Bend until you’re wrapped so dearly close
Loosely drape sheets about your naked breast
Skirt my attention with tangles of your hair
Blow upon my fingers as you read about their days
Measure out the distance to the embers of my heart
Icy cold hands make your heart flutter flutter
Sip upon the brow of this thickly layered elixir
Put between your lips the essence from a kiss

From Without Within (day 354)

I have been watching myself crawl around these corners as of late, from the mirrors encircling this room that I lay upon
I quite enjoy the serenity of observing oneself from within the landscape of ones own charm
It’s like a close encounter with another, a feature that has never quite grown old and continues to grow
Comfort like a curve that has yet to be populated with the distinction of hair

These mirrors are not cracked at all, nor do I plan to crack them
Perhaps I grow old and shed my find cloak like the snake that glows
But I shall not tire of watching the curves of my eyebrows race their way south
Into the depths of my ear lobes and further towards my nose
I shall not grow weary of the assembly gathered upon my chest
Some of them curly, lots of them old crow
I don’t believe in alterations of the plastic kind
Those which require surgeons to enhance what doesn’t seem to exist
This is a modern folly, of which I am not victim
Perhaps it would be better I didn’t voice my opinion

I as my master do conquer what I’m made of
I listen to its lurches, I succumb to its will
I help it move forward and feed it more fuel
Today I have explored from without and within

Fever in Its Haze (day 253)

From upright
To a 4 point stance
Spinning again
In this grand romance
With eyes that pierce
And a devilish smile
If it so chooseth
To come play a while
For, in an instant
Like the sweet curves
Her hands have made
In subtle murmurs
In this mesmerizing dance
A world can change
Joy into lost
Fever in its haze
Throbbing into lust

These Dreams (day 176)

I want to run my hands
Along the coast of your heart
Down the ridge of your back
Along the peaks of your curves

I want to create these memories
Like sun baked carvings in the sand
Washed away with time
It was about the game rest assured

I want to traverse these cliffs
With the gravity of your kiss
Propelled with your hands
Gently urging me forth

I want to lounge in these valleys
Where the grass does grow deep
I want to lounge in these valleys
I want to sing with these trees