We have entered
each other’s atmosphere
In isolation,
the way a bee knows
The deep shadows
in the folds of a flower
But doesn’t know
what a bouquet is,
— Rowan Ricardo Phillips
i want it…
All. That. Hard.
and there you are…
Beauty and grace are performed
whether or not we will or sense them.
The least we can do is try to be there.
— Annie Dillard —
the sun came and so did i…
I wore a skirt today.
Had you put your hand between my legs
I would have moaned quietly
In the back of my throat with low, soft cries
And looked you square in your beautiful eyes.
I wore a pair of lace panties today.
I almost didn’t, though.
Had you slipped the lace to the side
You would have felt warm, silky lips
Licking your finger tips.
I wore the memory of you
When I slipped away “for a moment.”
Had you only been there.
Each moan undressed me, my gasps commands
As my throbbing clit fed hungry sex to my hands.
Chorus:
I came three times today.
But there you were inside me.
I came three times today.
And there I was astride you.
I came three times today.
As you cried out beside me.
— Lola Moi —
C’mere…
“C’mere,” you said as you took my hand.
My slim hand entwined in your thick, warm one.
it’s in the translation…
My love, he asks for grace each time he reaches for me.
His words dance ’round the permission he craves.
His secrets are songs the land sings to the moon.
walk this way…
Some say that a woman is for sleeping with
Long winter nights…
Long winter nights…
Some say that a woman is for play-like
Like a sexy dancer on a green harvest ground
To make her dance with nine-castanets…
Some say she is my spouse…
Some say she is the spiritual debt
That I carry around my neck
Some say; she’s the one who leavens my bread,
Some say; she’s one who gives my children birth…She’s neither this nor that, not a sexy dancer, not a spouse, not a debt, none of that!
She is my arms and my legs and my head..
My mother, my wife, my sister, my lover-confidant
She is My Lifelong Bosom Friend…
-Nazım Hikmet –