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It needed a touch of focus and polish, so here it is. Please share with people who might enjoy my work. Or your enemies, it’s not up to me what you do with it.
M B B
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Category Archives: women
Whether dream
Streets turned to mirrors
Marking time with cigarettes
And in my head
I’m twisting you to points of
Sublime, complicated pleasure
Being smart is sometimes
As much a burden as being aroused
The world mocks the man
Who owns himself
Good
Bad
But my kisses are sweet
And before the world calls me
Home
One last kiss
Whether dream
Whether real
To send us off
To whatever comes
Next
51R
51R
U 83L0NG 2 51R
A novel from M B Blissett.
A woman enters into a virtual world to realise her darkest fantasies and falls in love with the man responsible for bringing them to life, pitting her against the rules of the world she has entered.
Coming soon from L&MB Press.
Driving Me Mad
Grounded by the weight of the
Unresolved lust
Slow and heavy
Almost adolescent with irritated
Acceptance
Coiled and ready to bite
Spit and clutch until
The poison drains away
Never more alive than when
I lean into my hunger
Bend you over and make you gasp
Raw and impolite
As ever, gentle ferocity
And clumsy with release
I struggle to breathe with it
Aware and awake,
Sullen animal with your scent in my nostrils
And, baby girl, it’s driving me
Mad.
Coffee, with demons.
Being good
Practices
Magic spells to ward old devils away
Being able to leave your phone unattended,
Without the low hum of fear
Running nails down your spine
But no one notices
Because you’re supposed to
And no cookies for the bad boy
Who is being a good man,
Coffee with my devils,
Black, no sugar
But he ladles dessert spoons worth,
Into his
She’s asleep,
Could go through and tell her,
But no, goodness is simpler
And I don’t beg
There is no notion of getting lucky
There is
There isn’t
I know magicians
And she told me about
Compassionate compromise
So, in the wan hours of morning,
Sat and talking,
With my demons,
Educated to a point of refinement,
It is almost invisible.
And the only things cut are
The horns from his head,
But sometimes,
They still sting.
