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walk this way…

Some say that a woman is for sleeping with
Long winter nights…

Some say that a woman is for play-likewalk this way
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 –
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as you wish…

as you wishYou tie me up, tenderly but firmly; first my wrists then my ankles. We do not speak. The lights are dim, my curves and your contours dance with candlelit shadows. I watch you and you are beautiful: the muscles in your torso and arms bunch and lengthen as you prepare me. I am calm. I trust you. We want to be here together. Alone.

You are gentle yet insistent.
My hips buck the air, seeking out your hunger.
You exhaust your tongue and jaw muscles from eating me out.
My nails want to scratch your back each time I cry out.
You use up the batteries in my vibrator.
My pussy juices up your hands, your forearms, your chest, your face, and glorious cock.
You dip your fingers in as deep as they can go and ask me if I want more.
My head thrashes, my limbs strain to spread wider for you.
You give yourself permission.
My pussy throbs for days from the pounding you give me.
You please me simply because you love pleasing me.
My arms finally free, you lie breathless in my arms.

You tell me there’s no other place you’d rather be
and in that moment
I believe you.

her curves are your dreams cum true

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before leaves fall…

Caresses, expressions of one sort or another,
are necessary to the life of the affections as leaves are to the life of a tree.
If they are wholly restrained, love will die at the roots.

– Nathaniel Hawthorne –

before leaves fall

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too long, not enough…

one more day

One of us had loved the other more perfectly, had watched the other more closely, and one of us listened and the other hadn’t, and one of us held on to the ambition of the one idea far longer than was reasonable, whereas the other, passing a garbage can one night, had casually thrown it away.

― Nicole Krauss ―

too long not enough