is it something i said…

is it something i said
Every First is full with each Last.

The first time you traced my body with hungry hands over slippery cloth, I discovered a depthless passion. Your first touch on my nipples, made me wet for years. The first time the head of your gorgeous cock barely parted my swollen, panting lips, I heard the rush of your moan and I never wanted to rebuild that dam.

The first time you picked me up and placed me on the bed, I was lost for wanting all of you in every way. The first time you reached for my hand, I found myself. Your first cum with me made me cry; you were so beautiful. And you remain so. Even in the shadow.

I am what I am. Soft and wanting more of you. This need is not lip service; it is the broken dam, the swinging branch that holds the brass ring, the gasp of falling falling falling, the sweet smell of my wet soaking me, awaiting you.

caçadores de tempestades…

I undress you
because I want to
and in this simple action of removal
you are seen.
Like a whirling dervish
my tongue weaves magic.
Your breath the wind
bending tree boughs to its will.

A curtain parts
The space inside blooms.

Out here in the real world
people suffer a kind of emptiness they do not understand.
That echo they hear
whenever they speak?
they hear as car horns
or train tracks clicking past nowhere on the horizon.
There is no velvet to touch
No silk to grip, to sing into.

My lips part to say your name
The storm approaches.

– Lola Moi –