beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Gilded

Gilded by sunlight
Coffee, brewed to potent darkness
Hangs in the air like hotel polish
My hand at your cheek
Warm and rough
Like a dog’s enquiry
Offering the delight
Of my attention
The low, soft lilt
Of the words I wrote for you
Making your winged soul
Tickled with attention
How I come from my world
A breath apart
To yours
Taking pleasure in the differences
Invitation extended
Without recrimination
An embrace taut as leather
Crisp understanding
And a wave of forceful
Desire to wash over you
Go about your day, darling,
Saturated in my love,
A moment taken from my own
Empire’s grace
Offered to you
A drop of rain, pure and sweet
Hitting the surface of your heart’s ocean
One drop
One drop
One drop
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beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Melting

 

Melting like ice cream

Pooling amber cream

In the plastic bowl

Of an afternoon

We escape for brief periods

Making a love

Equal parts tender and furious

My tenderness at loving war

With your fury

I know your need for me

To be a man to you

A column, a wild bear

Roaring lust into the blue

Teasing and rewarding

Your lips curved into gentle

Smiles then lustful howls

I need your surrender

And beneath the sway of flowers

Take what I want

Buck and dance beneath me

Nothing in my gaze

Warrants judgement

Guilt is a small cloud

But my light

My darkness

Overwhelms it all

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beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

all now is play

Lost in my eyes

Found by my touch

Defined by my strength

Aloft on the gentle wonder

Of my attention

I listen close

Act according to my purpose

Sourced in quiet primal play

Do I still pool in the hollow places

Within you?

My instincts offer affirmation

But the silence, sometimes

Is too thick to make sense of

Yet still, my cave

Echoes with the gentle call

To adventure

Take my rough hands

Put them where you will

All now is play

All now is love

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beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Come To My Bed

 

You

Come

To my bed

Not a stranger

Flushed with guilt and trepidation

But here slip off

The clothes of duty and manners

Intelligent animals

Seething with heat

To kiss until our lips bruised

Without the fear of judgement

With the only limits

Determined by our courage

In pursuit of our desires

I

Touch

Kiss

Fuck with the raw power

Of play

A primal authority

Nestled in a warm cradle

Of authority

Tied

Spanked

Tested

Play the game of surrender

Leave yourself

In whole or in part

Bear the marks

Or hide them

I shall care for them

Until such time

As you are compelled

By appetite to call upon me

Again

A genie with flesh’s wishes

Known like scripture

Come to my bed

Then come

Again

Again

Again

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beauty, love, lust, mother, sex, short fiction, women

Maternal Burden

She wore a silk jersey dress, patterned in diamonds of blue and white. Her hair was a blunt bob, cut in around the ears and the back of her neck. She had a slight overbite, which leavened her beauty, vulnerable and approachable, were it not for the fierce, bright light in her eyes. Coltish legs and a small, high bosom.

The date on the back of the photograph reads a single date.

11th November 1975.

She had gone out, nineteen years old, spending the money she worked all week to earn. Her priorities were to have a dance, a few drinks and a laugh.

Simple pleasures, strung together like christmas lights.

He held court at the bar, a tumbler of scotch in one hand, cigarette between the fingers of his left hand as he gestured for emphasis. His hair was thick and black, with long, simian sideburns, a spade jaw and a deep cleft in his chin. She stood in the doorway and their eyes met across the pub with the propulsive force of chemical reaction. He wore a paisley shirt with a wide collar, unbuttoned to the chest, showing the broad, furred expanse like a mating display.

His wink had a seismic impact upon her, a brutish authority leavened by the melodic, poignant burr of his voice. The anecdote continued and she joined her friends in their hurry for amusement.

They danced in a circle, stiff and embarrassed, fending off suitors with practiced humour but with a few drinks and some good music, they found themselves, liquid and alive. It was during Somebody To Love by Queen that he came over and introduced himself.

Billly MacDonell brought them a round of drinks. He regaled the group, ignoring her until she twisted and seethed with his wilful ignorance of her attraction. She touched his arm and he laughed it off, telling her she should not touch what she could not afford. His tone bordered on contempt but his eyes were a slow burn, offering her a test of her character and will.

She dared,

She willed. Billy slipped away from the dance floor, with her heart in his pocket. He slipped his arm around her, suffusing her in a sensation equal parts danger and comfort.

He was a good Catholic boy. She was on the pill.

I never asked the details. It was enough to know they collided, flesh, chemicals and lightning.

The family doctor confirmed it She imagined his delight, the scenario playing out a million times in her head as she rang him from the phone box, asked him to meet her at the cafe on the high street.

His face fell when she told him. She was privy to a rare sight.

Billy McNamara. Speechless.

His glib charm sought to assert itself and failed. He set his mug of tea on the table.

‘I’ll pay for ye to take care of it.’ he said.

The cold edge in his voice cut her deep. He tried to explain that it was just fun, he could not be a father but he could do the decent thing.

She looked away, eyes damp with unshed tears as her insides burned with regret.

‘So, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?’ she said.

Billy’s eyes twinkled and he went to take her hand but she snatched it away.

‘My sweet, can’t you please see the longer picture here?’ he said.

She thought about correcting him. A small riposte to the injury he had delivered. She touched her stomach for reassurance. Her act of courage had been to meet his eye, but there was more to bear, and she had a choice to make, there and then.

I have her eyes.

His chin.

Her courage.

His glib charm but it’s leavened by experience.

She chose me, despite all the doors it closed to her.

When I sat there, running my thumb over the silver blister packs of tablets, mustering the courage to just stop suffering, I remember that girl and her faith in me. I got up, wiped my eyes and flushed them down the toilet before I made a phone call.

‘Hi Mum.’

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beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Sacarres

Sacarres in your

Direction

How my thoughts

Glow at the sight of you

You glimmer

Shine

The flutter of fairy wings

In each smile

The shimmer of mermaid scale

In your eyes

I possess you

Vessel for the divine

To make you flush 

With actions

To make you giggle

Like a child

To share your wonder

Offering up a solid 

Place to rest against

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