Of Pleasure

there may not truly be words to convey

sensations such as this

it may come down to sounds

to movements made

it may simply be a torso

writhing like a snake

fluid motion

reminiscent of a wave

it may be a pulsing vein

swollen and hidden deep

in the nether realm

where eyes seldom see

it may be muscles flexing

convulsing and tearing loose

all semblance of composure

the body losing control

it may be guttural throaty sounds

culled from deep within

and uttered forth

in breathy gasping bursts

it may be fingers interlaced

the feel of skin on skin

lips and teeth

and fingernails digging in

it may be eyes connecting

and holding each other’s gaze

off the eyelid

the escape of a single tear

it may be explosions visible

or the ones that go unseen

the evidence of both

flowing uncontained

it may be soft and tender

may be savage and raw

the scent of lust

enveloping the room

there may not be words

or poetry enough to convey

but you will know

the depth of what I feel~

 

~for my muse~



 

Weary

it would seem to me that this is the time

while wrapped in the sinewy vines.

tangled in the intricate web

of emotions that are suffocatingly loud.

it would seem that these are the moments

when the words would trickle and fall.

down, over and upon me

as if there were no end to the way.

that I could describe these feelings

or find comfort in words.

it’s like pulling teeth tonight

or a rabbit from a hat.

it would take magic to make the words

flow freely from my pen.

it might just be exhaustion

or all of this magnificent change.

a life readjusted and realigned

a world turned upside down.

it might be that all of my comforts

are stored away for now.

the things that I’ve become accustomed

to always having around.

so when tired and weary overtake me

I also become timid and small.

my voice gets very quiet

and I very simply go still.

clinging frantically to consciousness

yet desperately needing sleep.

wanting so badly to let go

yet fearing what will overcome.

I’m about to release a torrent of tears

and then sleep the sleep of the dead.

letting go all that has me twisted within

and struggling to find the words.

let the lifelessness fall upon me

as if I could disappear.

 

 

 

 

 

~with grace~

where do you find the grace

to let words silently slip away.

to take the proverbial high road

and let them go unsaid.

I am a Scorpio and so infused

with a wicked venomous tongue.

poised to strike at the intruder

who has come into my realm.

double edged and sharp as a knife

I wield a steely pen.

I know how to use it for evil

though I try so hard to do good.

I don’t know how not to react

the sting of the piercing of flesh.

not even just when it is mine

I will defend you to the death.

when injured I will tear into you

and slowly wear you down.

piece by piece I will devour

any lingering wounds.

I cut from the inside as I know you

you told me all of your lies.

I listened intently as I always do

I love even stronger than I hate.

it’s not a thing that I am proud of

please don’t get me wrong.

it’s a warning of sorts that my wicked nature

is not always mine to control.

I don’t take pleasure in staring

at this side of me in the glass.

that mocking grin and evil smile

always staring back.

it seems that few else ever see her though

that she makes her attack under veil.

hiding hidden attacks and suicide bombs

in a package of pretty words.

they always come back to haunt me

while I lie awake at night.

and regret and sorrow cover me

like a heavy leaden cloak.

the evil doesn’t live at the heart of me

defining who I am.

that is why I am telling you this

I want to learn to live with grace.