Tag Archives: passion

Piracy

Posted on June 11, 2018 by John Biscello

To dig nails into the ciphered history of her skin, unmapped, to take a pirate’s tack in plundering the source of her sap and scent, flagged on the bare teeth of wolves wind.  

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All and Sundry

Posted on June 6, 2018 by John Biscello

To consume, tenderest bulbs of Beauty, alighting on one’s bluedeep hunger, to swallow, whole, the garden’s rooted bounty, greenfire and all.

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Vein

Posted on June 5, 2018 by John Biscello

The infections that get inside you and start singing are the hardest ones to cure because you and your addict crave more and more strong music to mainline into your tenderest vein en route to cave-in.

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Can I Strip For You?

Posted on June 5, 2018 by John Biscello

I want to exist for you, even if only as confusion and fiction, she said. Really, I said. No, un-really, she corrected, then caught my nose between her knuckles and gave it a playful toggle.    I didn’t know what … Continue reading →

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Kiss

Posted on June 3, 2018 by John Biscello

In the resident smolder of lips, a seared prelude, announcing blatant recourse to the sheerest intent.    

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Ghostlight

Posted on June 2, 2018 by John Biscello

It could be like this. Early morning, light milkpooling at the edges of your bed, dawnfrost bleaching your bare feet and subtly wriggling toes softly phantom, and I follow the erogenous ghost past your shins, to the rounded pate of … Continue reading →

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Live from Eden

Posted on May 30, 2018 by John Biscello

Her talk of bruised skin, and how it caught fire on the far side of trespass, fascinated me to no end. She wanted to burn clean through, didn’t want to hear any more talk about cooler heads prevailing, or stubborn … Continue reading →

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Romanticism 101

Posted on May 27, 2018 by John Biscello

If I were there right there goggle-eyed and flame-pawed between her legs and she began secreting the deepest most lucid mirrors and glaze of honey waft of orange blossoms crushed and enmeshed in heavy musk would that appease my hunger … Continue reading →

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Sunstroke

Posted on May 26, 2018 by John Biscello

There’s something about a girl baring flagrant cherish in the sunniest regions of hell that raises Eden to a four letter five alarm siege on skin and other vital parts prey to melting.  

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I Listen

Posted on May 23, 2018 by John Biscello

Dawn. The sea breeze, salt-fringed, rolls in through the opened glass doors, its damp fingers sifting and touching upon the cravings, rent and folds of our shared bare skin, It’s like home, you say, and this makes me dig my … Continue reading →

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