Chicken Skin.

 

Fingers creeping up the tingly, naked ridge,

sweaty-static-electric-high voltage,

tacky surfaces of salted-cream skin,

made of sensations akin to each nerve’s end,

withdrawal, elation, tears and satisfaction,

the uprising rebel’s defeated stupefaction,

hours pass with a thump, pump and groan,

resignation leans into the forceful cyclone,

being carried far out by a mean undertow,

nothingness and everything tied up with a bow.

 

 

Kink.

Americana Injustica

Eyes, locked that never leave my thighs, as I pass by –

parade-rested – ideas nested deeply in your mind;

let stand: up your man, hands down, at your sides;

don’t feel shy – or try to hide –

let those savage instincts over-ride;

Hold, molten to your soul in solid gold, the coveted prize –

cradled tightly – carried brightly by the iris of your eye;

follow me: into Ecstasy, and let your body be satisfied;

don’t act blind – let me ease your mind –

just undress and find your way inside;

Sweat, drips salty-wet, drop erotic tears, in my eyes –

legs shaking – an undertaking of the most pleasant type;

climax; then relax, let your wind fill the skies;

you can unwind – this suits us both fine –

forget the details you’ve been scratching to find;

Time, passes along before I am gone into the…

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Long Night.

Early on,

the night is long,

you trail me,

by a sturdy lead,

unsurprised,

are your eyes,

to perceive,

how readily,

I follow along,

mesmerized,

paralyzed

by your song,

vocalized,

localized,

loud and long,

played steadily,

laid heavily,

heaves and sighs,

the fall and rise,

in ecstasy,

in submission,

across a knee,

white flag waving,

daylight fading,

into the pull,

magnetically,

shamelessly,

make-up smearing,

clothes disappearing,

instantly,

full nudity,

immortalized,

by your tender mind,

and your touch,

leaves me,

crossing my eyes,

seeing flashes of light,

burning,

yearning,

rivers rush deep,

the mouth to the sea,

internalized,

naturally.

 

 

 

Sapling.

What does this woman want?

She wants to be secure,

wants to be assured,

wants to feel beholden,

to bring warmth to the touch of her master;

And, what does the man want?

He wants to greedily admire,

wants to be twice as admired,

wants to burn eternal,

to forever sizzle within at the sight of his object;

The equation seems simple,

closeness shall draw the rest together, in turn,

a man and a woman are natural companions,

the admiration one holds for the other,

is not enough – has never been enough,

will never be enough to purge,

from the spirit of the man,

or from the soul of the woman,

the sapling that lies within the belly of both,

grown from the seed of Lust and Blood,

one, the child of Fear and Jealousy,

the other, born to War and Desire,

now together – now ripped at the seam,

the dark hours are the battleground,

on which we strike our most memorable,

and powerful of blows,

to behold the single rogue,

sweat drop as it defiantly rolls

from your brow down the bridge of your nose

and disappears in the corner of my eye, as usual.

 

Try Me.

Try me, spicy,
cursive Roman lettering…
A secret alphabet,
Dicey;
enticing the skin
of my fingertips;
dividing the places
between my hips;
underneath, and
in between,
how did you know?
How can you be?
The Keeper of
the lock and key…
when I
can’t even find the thing?
Try me, scarface,
nemojte me obožavaju?…
Made of bones –
Which dialect
Do you know?
si me obožavaju?
can’t you understand?
Made of flesh –
And strung
around your neck,
you want it wet…
I’m in your net.
Please?
Release…
Try me, Handsome,
I’m yours for sure
Your unsecret whore,
Of the North Shore.
Made of stones,
tell me…
who is right and wrong?
It does not matter,
It never will,
Let me in –
Let me kill;
Your darkest chatter,
Be it gone,
so that my ears
will hear…
your every love song.
Push me and pull me
Carry on…
I hear you
I see you
I know your soul,
you know that I do…
it can’t be controlled;
it won’t be withheld,
that wouldn’t be fair…
tongues and tresses,
swallowed air…
necklaces of skulls and things,
bite marks and ink stains;
I love your pleasures,
you love my pains.
What the fuck
was my point again?

Jeg ber dere.

Jeg ber dere …
If I had you alone for a while
I guarantee
I could make you smile –
A broad, wide grin
that’d stretch for miles…
You’d be my daddy,
I’d be your love child;
Under the covers
a universe so wild,
believing and seeing –
the other side
of the coin –
tender loin,
my need –
overrides;
beg and moan
pump and groan
til the tears come
to my eyes;
A stroke and you’re in,
Now the pleasure
begins,
You take away from me –
only to
give back in full,
again.
jeg ber dere…
Suction from
puckered lips
pressure from you
finertips,
deep inside,
now – HOLD
recognize…
take it back again,
I beg of you
“Sugar, please?…”
You decide then
to let me
finally win;
you get me
to heights I’ve never been;
Please? Come back in…
I’ve left the
knob unlocked,
my door’s wide open
and I’m pleading too
jeg ber dere…jeg ber dere
Aye, you’re mine;
touch down
on the stars
in my skies
lick your own sweat
from my forehead
every night;
jeg ber dere
please do this right
I’ve taken to
the likes of flight
underneath
the Victory Wreath,
that you wear
in your full right.
Don’t hang me here
on the old clothesline
with all the things
that have worn
away with time;
too much sunshine –
too much open space,
jeg ber dere
I don’t belong
in that forgotten place.

Hurt So Right.

Oh so much pressure,
building up
inside of
my eyes;
Know that I measure,
many crumbs
in spite of
my size;
For whom I treasure,
to perceive
tonguing the seams
of my mind;
Steeping with pleasure,
belting out
aloud and proud
my cries;
Too low down to measure,
climbing up
the liquid tendons
chopped cleanly rough;
Oh so much pressure,
blue, passive-
aggressive
I love the ride.

Taken Me.

Eyes closed
face poised in pleasure
tension dissolving from its hold
unwrapping the tightly woven coils
of muscles around the bones,
clothes on the floor
tan-lines exposed
hazy tendrils floating lazily
heaven bound
nobody to tell you “no”
fingers clenching
time hard pressing
against a passion
a love story
without the love
the smoothness of
a liquid glove
I breathe you in deep
all the way to my feet
excite me
I am yours to keep
until you fail to please
for now the ember
burns white hot in these sheets
no need to wonder
just be
I surrender
myself at your feet
take me under
besiege me
rough and tender
do what you may please
sweat spilled
droplets of evidence
of the elements
to your ownership
of my willing body
paid-in-full
push and pull
you leave me on my knees
I’m yours
to throw or to hold
you have taken me.

Ankles to Wrists.

When I am beneath,
the salt of your heat,
my insides keep rhythm,
to your heavy heartbeat;
When we are like this,
my body wants to submit,
to the flavors that make up,
the taste in your kiss;
something is:
somehow, amiss…
I taste a subtle
but lasting emptiness;
But I take refuge,
in your ownership,
so just come and do it…
get on with this;
sweat glistening,
heavy breathing,
you are listening,
I’m well-receiving…
how I’m glued to it,
I’ve been persisting,
with a molasses slow…
strong and steady flow,
against your resisting,
to my submitting,
in all my nakedness,
strings to ankles,
ankles to wrists:
tied up with a bow,
that my Daddy picked,
for days that he,
wants to re-open it;
his marauding way,
suits me best,
when his skin
is tightly pressed
stuck like glue against
my slippery,
and heaving chest;
it’s only then,
through darkness,
the song that you,
refuse to sing,
in your stubbornness…
and momentarily,
you belong to me,
then and there,
in the land of:
No Where…
I love when,
you let me see,
the face of the man,
who owns my body.

Ankles to Wrists.

When I am beneath,
the salt of your heat,
my insides keep rhythm,
to your heavy heartbeat;
When we are like this,
my body wants to submit,
to the flavors that make up,
an intoxicant in your kiss;
something is:
somehow, amiss…
I taste a subtle
but lasting emptiness;
But I take refuge,
in your ownership,
so just come and do it…
get on with this;
sweat glistening,
heavy breathing,
you are listening,
I’m well-receiving…
how I’m glued to it,
I’ve been persisting,
with a molasses slow…
strong and steady flow,
against your resisting,
to my submitting,
in all my nakedness,
strings to ankles,
ankles to wrists:
tied up with a bow,
that my Daddy picked,
for days that he,
wants to re-open it;
his marauding way,
suits me best,
when his skin
is tightly pressed
stuck like glue against
my slippery,
and heaving chest;
it’s only then,
through darkness,
the song that you,
refuse to sing,
in your stubbornness…
and momentarily,
you belong to me,
then and there,
in the land of:
No Where…
I love when,
you let me see,
the face of the man,
who owns my body.