poetry, women, masculinity, beauty, love

Whether dream

https://mbblissett.com/2019/06/20/whether-dream/

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beauty, love, masculinity, poetry, 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

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books, erotica, love, lust, women

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.

 

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beauty, love, lust, poetry, women

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.

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beauty, love, men, poetry, women

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.

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beauty, love, poetry, women

Suits made of words

Sit down

Rest your head on my shoulder

Because in person,

I’m quiet with you because

The act of listening says

How I feel more than fragile words

Ever could

And even if you are silent

I still pay attention

Because so many people

Scream at the dark

And it tires me

How about you?

So sit

Remember this is all

We have

And even if we hadn’t met

In person

I would have known you

Even wearing a suit of words

But sit,

Tell me things

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beauty, poetry, women

See You There

There are borders

To the state of sadness

Clutching the wire

Looking at you

A tear falls and I fight the urge

To stand up

Wipe it from your eye

Because it isn’t how you escape

And even the most eloquent

Are robbed of words

By the prognoses

Promises unfulfilled

And so, unable to help,

I stand, the kettle is boiling,

And if I cannot fill the empty space

Such change leaves,

Then I will surround it

With my silence

Whisper across the barricades

Where and when I will meet you

Although i do not know the way

I will

See

You

There

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