Tag Archives: his hands make me swoon

waiting for this…

I’m not writing a postscript when I look into your eyes and say “yes.” I’m not begging for fantasy when I let you watch me cum, my throat exposed to the steamy air we share. I’m not seeking the dark when I run my fingers through your hair—my every exhale a shiver of light.

I’m here. I’ve been here all along.

when the world gets quiet…

Have you ever seen someone – a stranger – who is so delectable to look at that you are compelled to imagine them naked? And once they are naked in your mind’s eye – as you ride the transit or stand in line to get your ticket – you find yourself coupling with them in the most tantalizing of ways… have you ever?

Well, this is what happens to me every time I see you. I am utterly compelled to ravish you. I am devastated with adoration. I am buoyed by the coupling that awaits us.


an unquiet one…

an unquiet one

Being adored… and feeling it.

Being wanted… and seeing it.

(It is possible… here in this moment, now.)

Being desired… and knowing it.


This is the pleasure beyond lust.
This is the hope beyond what has passed.
This is the glow in my eyes when I look at you.

Yes, at you.

enter the sky…

enter the sky

love sonnet xi…

love sonnet 1

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

— Pablo Neruda —

love sonnet 2

tired from the work…

tired from the work
abiding joy.
mysterious peace.
riotous rest.

another gravity…


You see everything, you see every part.
You see all my light and you love my dark.
You dig everything of which I’m ashamed.
There’s not anything to which you can’t relate.
And you’re still here.

– Alanis Morissette –


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