I turn to see you and there goes my breath.
the fact that we exist…
L
L
L
L
L
L
A poem has secrets that
the poet knows nothing of.— Stanley Kunitz —
alone with everybody…
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul
– Charles Bukowski –
when we said yes (or, roads taken)…
Afterwards.
We lay like that for a time. It should have been awkward but each breath was… simple. Quiet. And this stillness brought with it a calm, a terrifying calm. Each freckle, each edge of stubble, each bead of sweat still shining on his forehead was a beacon to something I’d never seen before – a storm inside me I’d left for others to read about in some story, long ago left dusty on a shelf. But here, now: each breath softened hard edges, drawing us closer, revealing a fit I never knew possible.
where are you going…
Who are you looking for? Your beloved is right here.
— Rumi —
blessings for the longest night…
All throughout these months
as the shadows
have lengthened,
this blessing has been
gathering itself,
making ready,
preparing for
this night.
It has practiced
walking in the dark,
traveling with
its eyes closed,
feeling its way
by memory
by touch
by the pull of the moon
even as it wanes.
So believe me
when I tell you
this blessing will
reach you
even if you
have not light enough
to read it;
it will find you
even though you cannot
see it coming.
You will know
the moment of its
arriving
by your release
of the breath
you have held
so long;
a loosening
of the clenching
in your hands,
of the clutch
around your heart;
a thinning
of the darkness
that had drawn itself
around you.
This blessing
does not mean
to take the night away
but it knows
its hidden roads,
knows the resting spots
along the path,
knows what it means
to travel
in the company
of a friend.
So when
this blessing comes,
take its hand.
Get up.
Set out on the road
you cannot see.
This is the night
when you can trust
that any direction
you go,
you will be walking
toward the dawn.
– Jan Richardson –
always something there to remind me…
You beg for your dinner; your mouth sucks the marrow of each moan from me. My hands reach for the promise burgeoning between your thighs. You pulse with ache, marking each and every grind until you are so thick my fingers simply cannot meet around the heat of your shaft. What surprises me is your length… and girth. And at full salute, you are profound. You are glorious. You blush when I say so and my pussy gushes with pleasure. Pushing past the grip of my hungry lips, I am breathless with how you fill me… and all I can think is “again.”
get my fill…
the weather is lovely…
hunger games…
