Skin
Sweat
Urgent actions
Free from nouns
Verbs
Adjectives
I need fire
Not ‘fire’
Surrender
Not ‘surrender’
Your body is enough
The smell and taste
Make me primitive
Impossible and fragile
As it is
I could stay here
Forever
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Tag Archives: beauty
Sword and Sheath
My sword is sharp
Raised high above my head
It cuts through the tendons of
My weakness
Heals in passing
Even as it leaves scars
But oh how you
Are its sheath and without
A place to rest
The edge never dulls
And it turns on me
In its thirst for release
Let me plunge it deep
With the force of my attention
There, I shall rest
A moment’s oblivion
And a reconnection
To the gentle man I can
Sometimes be
A rock amidst a storm
Rain washes away
The dirt of past transgression
Lightning scorches
Gouges glowing lava bright,
When there are cracks
Your gales test them to
See if they can be widened
Further
Laughing at your hailstones
Even as I’m burnished by
The play of your storm
You drift away
But return and
Find me stronger and hardier
For the expression
Kiss
Your voice
Sounding like it’s
Underwater
Suckling like
A loving snake bite
Pinned beneath my kiss
My lips swimming
Within the sweet wine rivers
Of your skin
Flat tongued caresses
Casting spells into your
Flesh
As a gourmet on their deathbed
Dreams of a perfect final meal
The urge to live
And die in this raw, delicious
Moment
Say My Name
To swim in the
Warm waters of your ocean
To slide roots
Into your yielding earth
My tongue
A gentle brand
Leaving marks of
Coruscating delight
On and within you
No part of you
Stays my advance
And I am relentless
Animalistic in my control
I lay my weight upon you
Take you and fill you
A vessel for the divine
Pantheons pass between us
And in this cycle
We die and are reborn
In the same skin
I’m hungry without
Desperation but the want
Sings hosannas and I hear
The siren call of your skin
Say my name
monsters and reflections
I know my monster
Greying fur shimmering
In the twilight
It has my eyes
It lives in the forest
Far from causal insult
Its claws are clean
Short because it
Relies more on force
Than precision but
It can be gentle
Conscientious but not so much
It becomes a pet
Asleep wherever you’re
Looking to walk to
It knows love
And serves as its gamekeeper
When grief steals in
And cuts, my monster
Retreats until the scars
Turn silver like its fur,
It is drawn to wild honey
Erudition and capriciousness
Served with amused regard
I know my monster
And in so doing
Reach to a state of
Earthen grace.
a thing
The thought of you
Rushes upwards
From the soles of my feet
The candied pleasure I take
From you
Contrasted against my rough
Dark hands and sometimes
I forget my strength
Sinking into the earth
Of union and planting seeds
There and how you soak my
Beard and pinned down
Used with so much want
It becomes a primal brutal thing
We play until we leave marks,
Such a thing you’ve made of me,
Baby girl,
Rough and quiet, sat and soaking up
The skin with the same thirst
As
I
Fuck
You.
