Tag Archives: a promise of no shame between us

the neighbours are watching…

 

Someone has to dip into something more comfortable…

 

 

 

 

 

 

if…

Dear Gentle Sir,

When I say your name, my heart rumbles
much like a lion roars when it knows it’s right.
If only we could know the future, we might roar more.

xo

if freckles were lovely, and day was night
and measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie
life would be delight
but things couldn’t go right
for in such a sad plight
i wouldn’t be i

if earth was heaven and now was hence
and past was present and false was true
there might be some sense
but I’d be in suspense
for on such a pretense
you wouldn’t be you.

if fear was plucky, and globes were square
and dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
things would seem fair
yet they’d all despair
for if here was there
we wouldn’t be we.

— e.e cummings —

des communs élans…

des communs élans

 

 

 

She the river that wears down stone
and makes new caves in my body
For me to crawl into and laugh and splash in
In the warm and wet and small places where there is no shame.

Electric Youth

there is a crack in everything…

that’s how the light gets in.

there isn’t a word for everything…

image

A person just gets sexier and sexier
when you’re attracted to their soul.

– Karen Salmansohm –

say it again…

Dear Gentle Sir,

There is that moment before I appear: it is the breath that catches you – not the other way around. It is the moment you didn’t know you needed to capture and hold because once I appear, everything changes; each and every time.

You tell yourself that this time is like any other time; you and I are here, together, seeing one another and really, it’s no big deal; we are here in this way, as we must be. But your body… and the surprising way your heart just tripped – barely a little – tells the true story of us.

You say it’s me but you surprise yourself, constantly; the way your skin reaches for mine through each inhale. (Don’t worry, we won’t discuss the ways you try not to smell me on your clothes moments, hours, days later.)

In fact, the way my head tilts as I listen does not make you want to sink into silence as you softly – deftly – bring out the tender, fervid treasure of secret pleasures within me.  And when my hair falls out of its tie, over my shoulders, and spills down my back, that is not an impulse to nibble my clit or lick me anywhere; you are immune to what has been and whatever might have…

When we laugh together, those tingles racing, racing, down and out and in and through your body are not because my boisterous laugh pleases your nor does it make you want to make me happy; you are not inspired by me. After all.

There is that moment before you check your watch: it is the pause before we touch one last time that claims your hope. It is the moment you didn’t know you needed to capture and hold because once I disappear, everything changes; each and every time.

Kiss,

Lola xo

how to keep being…

how to keep being
Where we go from here…
might not be boring.

i want it…

https://i2.wp.com/lh5.ggpht.com/-NsVY3Z_V47E/UzS-LkpKyTI/AAAAAAAAzFA/dICO2yxmUBc/s640/tumblr_mtqlb7C7FF1revz5to1_500.gif?resize=443%2C249

All. That. Hard.

quickening current…

http://1badmother.tumblr.com/post/129176285900

 

You never know
what you need
until you lay eyes on it.

— Richard Wagamese

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