::Monotony's Dissipation::

The music is amplified in our ears as our voices are lost in a crowd filled with drunkenly dazed drama queens and soulless bodies bobbing to the beastly beat played by bright flirtatious djs amped up on a blow called ego. We aren't much different from the rest. Besides the simplicity of your fingers slicing between my legs holding me there as my body gyrates to the bass of the unusually non-monotonous music. Your other hand, encroaching around my waist and slowly sliding down pulling me so close as to destroy any remaining light that might shine between us two. We are one. My own hands finds you hips, your shoulders, your back, pulling you in as close to me as I can. I'm trying my hardest to keep my eyes open but they flutter closed each time your fingers tap at just the right spot. "Fill me" Comes rambling off my lips dusty and desperate to your awakening ear and you just smile teasingly holding my eyes with a drum beat that continues to undo me.

My head falls back only slightly but enough that I catch that disastrous glint surveying your eyes. A fury that is becoming harder to contain. I find my body moving backward and in my haze I have no concern for local until I feel a stable source breaking against my back. You press me harder against it creating a loss of flow to anything that might relate an area as vulnerable as my back. My legs shake in their eagerness needing to fulfill their obligation to stifle your curves yet remain heeled sliding against the slippery floor.

My thoughts go on a journey to a place I once told you about. The perfect fantasy. It involves this very place, this very crowd, these very circumstances and my body is almost at a breaking point wanting, not wanting, wanting, not wanting it to really come true. The improbably becoming a reality. You only smile as you watch my face go through the motion of realization bringing me quickly back to prsent with your other hand as it slides along my cheek, down my chin, with fingers flashing out over my throat. Pressing sternly but not enough as to bring unfriendly attention and I loose my breath. My eyes stay connected intensely with your own relinquishing control. Oh...you know.

One of your hands falls to my lower back; the other still a time ticking bomb bearing dangerously closer up my ridgest seam, pulling at my generous waist band. My eyes dart from you to the crowd, from you around the bar, from you, from you, from you to your hand. "Here?" I ask without words. You hardly nod but I'm able to catch it but I find myself out of time as your fingers slip down swimming to the very same spot your were drumming amiably wasting no time time and filling me as much as your wrist will allow.

My teeth fall into your shoulder and my eyes unwilling close. For a moment there is nothing else I can do but take you in allowing your fingers to take complete control directly my body in how it should respond. My mind splits off in a variety of vanity's directions flipping between my fantasy world and the world that continues to play out before me. If it wasn't for those eyes connecting with mine from across the room, I don't think I would be cumming so soon.

She just stood there, seemingly out of place in attire and age as she watched. She knew.

At the last of my pulsations preying on your penetration you gently slide from within me pulling me close for a very deep passionate kiss that for a moment stops us both from moving. Only our tongues are left dancing in a passion that is not inhibited to others. We pull away catching our breaths. I look over your shoulder to see if she's still there.

She's disappeared.

I check myself to see if I was just dreaming my fantasy real. I suppose I won't really know now anyway.

I pull you close to me laughing at our accomplishment and you smile that knowing smile.

Then I hear it.

Like satin in my ear....

"Long time no see......"

It was her.







*Image by utticer

::Aphrodite's Anticipation::

Silence saturates the air with it's heavy musk as we darkly allow it to envelope the space between us like the quiet heat of an Alabama summer in the depth of July; the anticipation nearly breaks me. My mind floats on cracking icebergs that threaten to capsize me tipping over full speed into depths I had never procured and hardly knew even existed. And right now I want nothing more than to cross this barren dessert encircled by pimped up leather in a space that was meant to bring together, problematic promises built on someone else's self, luminaries repressed in their resolve to just be themselves, corroding wood piles creeped up incestuously on something that could never be lit, swollen wax held captive to produce fragrances to hid the loneliness and you siting over there in that chair and I stare.

I stare.... cause I want to walk this dessert and cross over to you drinking you in like a stolen glance of a mirage on the fifty ninth day and let my fingers grow rich from your immediate swell. Let me light what could not be lit. Let my lips reach down past the layers of your past lives skin to something more gentle. The part that you protect. Let it come in waves crashing full force with tiny bubbles that tickle reminding you that sometimes it's good to laugh instead of acting so infected picking old scabs when they itch. Let it drown everything I thought I knew. Let it take you the brink of death. Let it take your breath. Cause then you'll know you were still here.

And I'm right here. Waiting impatiently on pause sending telegraphic phenomenons five feet in the air hoping you get how I feel as you stare at precursors predictions and all I can think about is that kiss that plays like a monogram that won't give up till it has been revived.

My lips, your skin. The slight hiss of your breath. A rainfall waiting to cascade. I wait. Impatiently. Till....you decrease the capacity of the world wide web, scattering crumbled paper leaving it anywhere it stands rising from that chair into my arms with those eyes that twinkle when you look my way. Eyes that let me know I've lost everything I thought I knew as you surrender swimming in my waves. Your a tsunami on my land and the light and the wood will never be the same.







*Image by startwearingpurple

:: Liquescent Sensations ::

In the middle of winter's icing sicklet fingers trees bloom in the smallest of ways barely visible scrapping swollen hills that rise like geysers trying to break through the surface with atoms and fragments huddled together waiting for five more degrees
to cascade and overwhelm forcing them irresponsibly out to greet the morning sun.

That's what it's like with you...

Though it is just the beginning of any of those stages where melting rocks drip from concaves buried away and the doundry scar that still cracks and pulls at my skin thinks it might just get a chance to heal. And I hope I'm not rushing anything....

Or at least I hope you don't feel the racers gun shot off exploding upon a competition to the finish line cause most of all I really do enjoy the act of just running in place; looking around at you instead of to some irrevocable goal. Wtching your how your skin peddles into mine gently as your eyes gaze back within my own illiciting beauty, quickly transgressing deliciously toward delightful meanderings, malintent rapidly conquers me, conquers you. The simplicity and depth of conversations edged over tea that we drink not for warmth but for a tease drunkenly dripping of my chin over only slightly trumped up 'Elvis' sandwiches of peanut butter and banana that you never did let me have.

Don't you know that even though I'm not suppose to, I do anyway?

I'm the temptresses reincarnate again and again.

Even this I'm not suppose to have....

Yet, this process amazes me each time how something so fragile but strong could continue to grow in the mist of the brutality of having almost everything taken away. The reminist of what it was laying scattered in dirty alleys, memories burning at the edges, suit cased arms held in; no one can see how beautiful it was.

But I know it's coming.

I can feel it in the air.

And before that glorious nature can be upheld to eyes that have been roaming far too long among greatfull-less grey clouds for days you'll feel a little cold. I know.

Just keep holding on.

Well there's really nothing left to do.

And just you watch as you will be irresponsibility forced out to welcome in the sun.








*Image by pacificdreams

::Unhinging Inhibited Memories::

Bubbling barrenly breaks through our selective silence as we watch standing over a teasingly trepidacious edge that shallowly revels an ever expansive view with crumpling cliffs off on it's right. The water grazes by our side eagerly cascading over the edge and for a moment I want to be apart of that uniformed chaos and free fall splashing down into your arms. But I keep my obligatory hands sealed to the inside of my pocket picking invisible lint in avoidance of correlating my heart with your own through the solidity of my hand. It's quite chilly out as March only begins to reawakened from it's ritual hibernation and my heart begins to crack and peel each time I look in the oasis of your eyes hoping that I'm the one causing them to change color each time they change color; they change colors. From grassy green to steel blue to breaking brown and back again like the earth we stand so still upon. Our breath pauses like this moment in time creating heated clouds with tenacious tension making themselves more obvious than if they just stayed in where they were.

We begin our walk back to where we came from and I reminiscently remember again; you have presented this all for me. It's such a glorious view and there are so many things that I want to do. And later as fire crackles incessantly and that singer's voice croons in our ears from a mix cd you prepared we kiss for what feels like is the first time as my body quakes on the inside. Laying you down and learning how to speak what I feel instead of using fragmented words. Do you know that I learned that from you?

I've never been the same.

And as we wake from our sleepy slumber I gazed back at you knowing intuitively that you would be the one. You already had me grazing polls edges as my uncontrollable stare in your direction distracts me continuously, repeatedly tripping over my feet as the magnetic pull drags me closer to you bumping shoulder and arms, but then, not yet holding hands. Growing nervous and speechless cause each time I looked up at you I lost everything I thought I had. It's was like living apologetically in the moment.

Years later I don't think of you so much; this being the first of these moments. Listening to bubbling as it barrenly breaks through my selective silence but it isn't like it was with you. It's just a fish tank sitting on unsteady legs with needy creatures only looking to be fed.










*Image by yv

:: Rumblings Rehabilitation ::

Tonight I'm angry...

It's intensity burrows a broth of soup that bubbles in my belly slammed down my throat irrevocably and I try my best to not let it cascade over burning my own battered skin. Yet it's flames expel from bitter lips. I try icing them down with idealistic fantasies but the rupture in that firewall can not be erased.

Cause tonight I'm angry...

And the effervescent war that's leaving splinters of your skin, digging deeper, as continuously your brittle nails stab into distractive skin over and over again for relief in this expanding irritation and I am only a tiny bit sad to say that I put them there.

I'm certain over time I may be more.

But tonight I'm just angry....

And I feel like wires have crossed, tangled, split down the middle with water frying over top. I have lost my grounding. I have lost my continental control. I am not cool right now. I am not "ok".

It's just my anger is like electricity, my mouth like conveyor belts of steel, moving forward with daggers sharp as swords for every word you told me that did not come from the helm of truths blessed battlefield. They seek out your heart. They are looking for blood.

It's true that tonight I'm angry but it really isn't with you.

I'm angry because peaches from the tree of life never did ring true. Romantic fairy tales ridding on the back of witches brooms never did make it over that moon. Time's tiring tick-tock telling me that change takes time. The hierarchy of history hedonistic books babble on about war after war over my starving dessert plains showing the repetition of protections that have been put in prophetic place. And I don't know my way out of this.

And I fear that no matter how I try to swim upstream I'll never make it to the waterfalls edge to be reborn.

I wonder if God made a mistake somewhere along my life. I can see from his saintly perspective that some never escape their own inner cells. That someone is someone I don't want to be. I've been her too long.

So I'll try yet again.

To let this warrior emerge and blast forth and fight for something because I know there is another world that is far different from what they've all said "that's for her".

My path is frosted over with hedges and bare broken tree limbs and I've got some cleaning up to do. I've got some forgiveness to let loose. If I plan on breaking free. I tell you I'm breaking free so I'm not angry Today.








*Image by zemotion

::Gratuitous Gratings::

It seems I have been awakened

My souls tape spread out cleansed reshaped to reveal something I had forgotten about a long long time ago. The passion that existed within my own soul.

Yes, it has something to do with you even though I resist the urge to allow this awakening to find it's home within your shadows fall because I am much smarter than that inoriginality. Much smarter in my keen awareness that it has almost nothing to do with you but lays mostly in timing and my decision to let go.

Our chemical reaction combusted cosmically cascading through creases darkened over time and vehemently shaking our minds as our cells sought new forms of nonresistance and thought for once they might chart a new course and follow their own stars.

It's evidence left splayed out over succulent bubbles that barrenly bobbed through space vibrating our percussive manifesto from head to toe of anyone that dared to dreamily gaze in it's direction as it eagerly sought out our forms only to start all over again.

It's inspiration tipping my tongue, black ink on pale parchment as old memories drizzle from the eloquencey of songs once heard as I begin to believe again in this deconstructed world. There was something more than just this treacherous terrain blocked by icy cold. I warmed.

And let timing be the curses creed. Yet there is no denying the magnitude of how you spoke right to my heart even if the realization of the words never delved deep enough into your own.

I have been awakened.

I had been dreaming for far too long.

I can only pray to some divine divinity that this feeling does not leave me and it is here to stay no matter that you've left my world. I want it to say inside of my healing ribcage filling that space, restructuring old worn out bones to vibrate new, so that I can gaze at the world with something called love.

I had been dreaming for far too long.

Thank you for reawakening my soul.....







*Image by I-not-sana

::Incandescent Illuminations::

Let your kiss enrapture me as the spark of our tongues sensually slide along side one another's seeking out the treasure of the breath in our bodies response irrevocably passed between cylinders of white porcelain inhaled as the other takes a breath. Fingertips nervously anchoring creating dunes that sink and rise back to their original form sailing past slippery bumps finding uncharted places on virgin lovers back to explore. Making imaginary impressions that can not be seen; only felt; only known. Cupping heated sides blazing like greased up sides of lust's inglorious poles pulling one another into laced arms letting tension build gradually; slow. The magnetic pull of our hips swaying like old reminiscing lovers til the gentle persuasion of uninhibited hands pull us daringly closer.

Our legs dancing between one another.
( as synchronicity in perfection like Ginger and Fred Astaire. )
Our muscles exercising extreme endurance.
( and earthquake demanding to hold )
Our eyes infested dreaming of non predetermined fantasies.
( our dream worlds colliding )

And this will be our first kiss.....










*image by duhitsmia