I’ve apparently been here under this particular alias for 3 whole years. Some of you remember my previous blog, some don’t. I’d like to think I’m far more mature but that’s always hard to tell. I’ve been blogging pretty consistently on one site or another over the course of 10+ years and I don’t …
It’s her full pouty lips I imagine them pursed Sucking at my skin At the hollow of my neck On my taut nipple By the dip of my navel Down to the curve of my hip I imagine returning the favor So she’ll develop a crush on me
The past becomes a murky mess When time and distance sweeps through The promise of passion Lures more than love could The echo of hand to flesh rings true And what I thought I needed Reduces down to simple things You relearning the contours of me.
Displaying a body of work Staring at empty canvases Wondering when ideas will coalesce Will the product please the painter?
Mirror Mirror On the wall Am I the fairest Can you see me at all? A late Boobday? Trying to figure out if I should do sinful Sunday? Enjoy it either way.
The squeak of the front door pulled her up short. A hint of anxiety hit her. She tamps it down and goes back to straightening the parlor, planning dinner in her mind, praying whomever was home had no need of her. The children were at school, the missus at her all day social, Mr Fletcher out-of-town… …
A story hovers on the edges of my mind. It’s I’m unsure I’ll do justice so I’ll let it continue to brew. In the meantime… Send motivation!
I have moments where I think about stopping. Work, writing, blogging. Stopping it all and taking an extended break. Why do people come to this space? What’s the purpose of this blog anymore? Am I an effective communicator? Am I finding fulfillment or anxiety at work? Is writing the emotional outlet it used to be …
Like an ache Just under my skin Deep enough to notice Nearly enough to hurt Every thought reminds me That nice doesn’t always feel good And some things leave a mark
From here Victoria was almost there. She could feel the approach of her climax in her belly with every thrust of Patrece’s fingers. “I watched you dance from the balcony.” He hooked his fingers inside and she groaned at the sensation. “I watched the way you moved across the floor, so regal. It was easy …