gone are the birds that were our summer guests…

looking legsThe crickets are raucous; wild for a reason, I guess.
The wind feels like… courage.
(Like that, only simpler.)
The fire pit smoulders; my hair smells of ash.
Tonite.
A season comes to pass framed by silky memories
and eventual, hopeful strains for some near-distant night.
You. Me. This.
We spread ourselves wide to the horizon that cradles our future –
the velvet expanse of our yet-to-be-known.
Awash in the restlessness of almost-goneness
I wish I had more time
grateful I can leave some of all that was behind.
A fruition of time that on this eve
blossoms and wilts.

Leaving is bittersweet.
It always is.
L

– Lola Moi –

stumbling is not falling…

reach deep
through the muck of time
sing
proclaim the past your friend
the present your lover
eat what is to come until you are full
change the lightbulb
not for what your next step might be
but for the room you have just entered
see the marvel that is space-to-be-filled

space to be filled

now i’m seeing…

People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention
so you can change your life.

– Elizabeth Gilbert –

now i'm seeing

something tells me…

He offers to bite my nipples through my shirt.
I offer to fuck him until his sweet cum sighs through me,
making me hunger for more.

Something tells me this could be a win-win kind of sitch-ee-ation.

win-win

a harbour like st. ives…

Dear Gentle Sir,

There is this:

The morning dew.
My velvet petals.

My body coos for you as it often does in the morning… in case you’ve forgotten. In case you wanted to be reminded. And now, as I slide my hands down the length of my torso, my warm, waking body stirs to what I imagine are your hands. Like mist on mornings, I wake to wanting you and your ways on me. But there is more. And more I cannot say.

I think of Keats:

For you to trust me and me to trust you,
you have to accept me and I have to accept you
the way I am and the way you are,
fully seen and deeply known,
with no need of apology –
with my body imperfections and with yours,
with my character shortcomings and yours, too…
for you are a sacred gift to me
and I am a sacred gift to you,
and gifts are to be gratefully accepted
and heartily enjoyed,
but only if you trust me and I trust you,
can we let ourselves be ourselves
and forget real or unreal barriers,
conventions or inhibitions,
as to profoundly enjoy
what we’ve been granted:
you – the gift of me,
me – the gift of you,
as deeply as our inner worlds
can take us in,
with trust
and joy.

… that, and I want to make you cum hard. Yes, that, there is that.

Softly Yours,

Lola Moi xo

always something there to remind me…

You beg for your dinner; your mouth sucks the marrow of each moan from me.  My hands reach for the promise burgeoning between your thighs. You pulse with ache, marking each and every grind until you are so thick my fingers simply cannot meet around the heat of your shaft.  What surprises me is your length… and girth. And at full salute, you are profound. You are glorious. You blush when I say so and my pussy gushes with pleasure. Pushing past the grip of my hungry lips, I am breathless with how you fill me… and all I can think is “again.”

always something there to remind me