Touch me where I am not, where the fade meets the form, where the furtive scent of glisten perfumes its own root cause and fable, give to me the dirty dinghied secrets of the center, the storied core, which, in … Continue reading
More erotic dreams about the girl from the sea– Longing, rimmed with salt
It’s strange how you can miss someone you’ve never met as if the ache bears a secret history exclusive to its own sense of mystery and rivet.
Adore, how a crush closes in on savored pink, to split flames, and corset ribbed longing.
From hips to belly, the distance between longing and bare knead, swelling.
The mouth, birthing a migrant kiss, begs gravity’s pardon in raising lips to a sublime arc.
Sometimes, it is just a marginal thatch of shadow slivering a cheek, or the rounded vowel of dimple puckering brazenly a bare knee, or the laser surgery performed on my small, fearful history, by a stray, smoldering gaze, it could … Continue reading
This side of dream, to marvel in sheer trespass and longing, to engage the mystery and riot of skin, by touch and flagrant cherish.
Near-distance of pain, dark ink blotting a thin page– Sorrow’s lasting print.
