This kiss, then.Now and then, forgotten. This rain washing, time.Remembered in echoing moments.This lost, mad, wild haired king, moans - winds low-bellied, deep in brush.A crucified stag.The madman nailed and hung himselfagainagainandagainNebuchadnezzar growling, trapped in brambles, hanging, engorged, wild eyed.Ready. Resigned.Willing.
Tag: Lust
This storm
The slight chillthat runs through the heated air –blue skies edging with grey,shades upon shades emerging. The bilious clouds expand,fluffed up by wind-filled mouths,rise along the blue,climb it’s back and rises along it the wind which pushes,kisses the backs of the clouds,eager urging, the grey banks forwards –the overwhelm the sky, fill itform a canopy … Continue reading This storm
Her face
A waterfall of dark hair,frames her face - focusingeyes that grace you,a gift when they find you,to burn through your lies,the untruths you sell(mostly to yourself,the hell of twisted introspection) The lips, curve - paint the air,an artist framing you.Your tremble as she measures,her whispersweighted with her foreign tongue,pronouncementssighsand the sudden soundsof surrender Her face, … Continue reading Her face
The Ninth
This body, your muted cries -a drying river splitting deep woods,a lowering babble over rounded pebbles.The doe lowering her head, finds dry rock,the rasping tongue on unforgiving stone. Grey clouds that give no respite -your neck in memory, fevered dreams -arching back and forth, hair whipping.Your knees bent alongside rising hips,the fading roar of a … Continue reading The Ninth
tremble
your breath with mine your fingers in mine tremble the illicit heat the catching passion this public space this intimate touch tremble your back arching under my palm that presses, pushes guides and holds you neck straining under my mouth, aching your motions, your cries tremble the flushing skin, the nails in skin. release tremble
a mind, bound
you did not kiss her when you touched her the last time, your entry lacked finesse - was more like your marriage, cold, hard, familiar inevitable, regrettable but... you held her, wrists above her head, hips cracking manic hard bound and again, and again, and again you touched her, that stranger, walking by you, you … Continue reading a mind, bound
Writer Moe 