If I never see you again I will always carry you inside outside on my fingertips and at brain edges and in centers centers of what I am of what remains.
— Charles Bukowski —
dirty girl…
the moon’s reflection…
Thirst drove me down to the water where I drank the moon’s reflection.
– Rumi –
catch your breath…
Honeyed alabaster.
Flawless skin, smooth like silk. No, like air. She moves across the room and you can’t take your eyes off her. A freckle. A cocktail dress clings to the sides of her small, generous curves; her breasts slightly rambunctious and buoyant. The emerald-green bounces light into her sweet, brown eyes. The waves and coils of her hair catch your breath like a spider’s web.
Bewitched.
I slip between you: softly, hungrily licking and lifting the creamy sauce from her slick, velvety creases.
Our cries – melodic in their intensity, harmonized in their passion – crescendo.
Succubus.
– Lola Moi –
the symphony of her hips…
put another dime in the jukebox, baby…
she said…
too much…
You can never have too much sky.
You can fall asleep and wake up drunk on sky,
and sky can keep you safe when you are sad.
Here there is too much sadness and not enough sky…
– Sandra Cisneros –
step it up…
