The wind seduces me.
Always.
Like your eyes do.
Like your mouth… and tongue does.
Like your hands do.
And each sweet moan.
It matters not that I tell myself:
I am a creature of the land and my soul is the water.
It’s always the wind that captures me unawares.
not our darkness that most frightens…
You sit in the light for me because I ask you to. You wait. You stroke my leg with a secret smile, and let me drink you in. I lose myself in my looking, in all your shadowed man-grooves. I lose my breath in your stillness. This pause we take is a lesson I don’t want to forget. I close my eyes; I want to imprint you deeper. When I open them, there you are – still waiting – wanting to be seen.
We are learning to be with one another, here, in this light that softens the heated edge of an afternoon delight. You lean back and even from this distance, I can taste your skin. Even as my supple clit thickens and my lips whet, you wait for me to be done with you. And in such thots, we stumble. Headlong, we stumble past one another in the crowded halls of Time. A cycle well-worn.
What songs are sung for a soul who seeks?
Who dances when the moon’s teat drips with longing?
There is nothing poetic about falling in love; it is starkest reality and basest need exposed. Utterly, it spends us even as we bleed. To love is to choose to be raw. Open.
Here with you, I walk blindly into an ancient light that conceals nothing, a light that wholly reveals from the inside. And suddenly, it is me sitting in front of another, being seen. We have shape-shifted into all our Unexpecteds. What there is, though, is light; a light that changes everything.
Look up, my soul whispers.
Here I am, my sweet.
Look up into Love.
Walk into the light.
I see you.
there is nothing left to do…
Dear Gentle Sir,
You sucked my toes and I believed all could be right with the world.
You kissed my hip three times
and my ears heard what before could only be felt.
You traced my fingers with your eyes and unearthed my courage.
You walked towards me with a smile
and my heart oozed this shiny nectar of Hope.
You sighed under my kisses and I stopped trying to be anything but me.
You slipped inside me just enough to make us both gasp
and I knew then, I could fly.
You drank me up and sang all my secrets as we fell.
You looked over your shoulder as you laughed
and the moon stayed full one night longer.
You waited for me to cum and for the first time, I found God.
L
Breathlessly Yours,
Lola Moi xo
how you say it…
When you say my hands are magic
When you gasp for air and look at me wild-eyed
When you put your fingers in my mouth, still wet and sweet from me
When you lift me, flip me, and kiss me
When you wait for me to suck
When you settle back and watch me
Isn’t that your way of asking for more?
where are you going…
Who are you looking for? Your beloved is right here.
— Rumi —
far beyond yourself…
L
drink from this, my well of jubilation
seep into the crevice where stories blossom
triumphant
glorious
fearless
lead me to the water’s edge
see me as a vision
see me as i am
a woman
a man
a heart beating strong
a massive jumble of a puzzle
lost and found
drink from this, my well of silent suffering
seep into the crevice where laments thrive
searing
formidable
cleansing
my hand cups the truth
covers my mouth
and still you sing to me from tomorrow
i will meet you there
i will not falter
nor hide
there is no shame
in who or what has been
i will meet you
there
across a chasm i cannot fathom
i will meet you there
there
i will be
L
– Lola Moi –
to make them blush…
The words that make the rose bloom were also said to me.
The words told to the cypress to make it grow strong and straight,
The instructions whispered to the jasmine,
And whatever was said to the sugarcane to make it sweet,
And to the pomegranate flowers to make them blush,
The same thing is being said to me.
– Anne Lamott –
