Breakfast In Bed
Breakfast In Bed
He lowers down, in morning’s first light,
A kiss to start, a slow demanding delight.
His tongue dances, searching deep,
She moans as passion stirs from sleep.
Poetry
Spoke in Smoke
He filled the tank with promises that never sparked,
held up a bottle and said the dust meant wisdom,
wore a suit like a sermon stitched from borrowed faith,
offered heaven as a refund if the product failed,
while the crowd clapped through the sound of sirens.
Leaning into the Storm
Rain hits the window sharp and loud right now
Cold drops chase each other down the glass streaked with silver
The sky presses heavy gray, a weight I feel in my chest
Thoughts twist tight, a storm inside that matches the one outside
Each breath pulls harder as the flood rises beneath my ribs
I sit holding it all, the noise, the ache, the relentless pull
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Poetry
The Climb
We stand at the base of my favorite lighthouse, its stone structure towering above us.
I have climbed these steps countless times, each one more familiar than the last.
The air is warm for June, but inside, the metal steps creak beneath our feet.
You step ahead of me, the sundress I picked for you adoring your body.
Your bare skin, exposed underneath, is visible as the dress rises slightly with each movement.
Waited So Long
I waited so long that the waiting became my excuse,
Told myself stories, each one a poor ruse.
Love passed me by wearing dresses of light,
But I stayed in the shadows, too stubborn to fight.
Darkness To Cyberspace
In epochs past, hidden in darkness raced,
BDSM’s tale, discreetly embraced.
Ancient echoes whispered secret ties,
Binding hearts under ancient skies.
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Poetry
You Are You
There is nothing wrong with you or the way you think.
Your desires are not damage dressed as curiosity.
They are strands of a truth you have always carried,
Quiet perhaps, but never shameful or misplaced.
You are not a fault in the system that made you.
The Watchers
In a distant time, where the ocean meets the sky,
A lightkeeper ruled with a watchful eye.
His wife, a vision, in the moonlight’s glow,
Captains sought her through spyglasses below.
Washing Away the World
here is a love in the act of care,
In washing her hair, I find a connection rare,
The ritual unfolds, a moment just for us.
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Poetry