romance

steamy tonight you come

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Steamy, cloudy the beginning unfolds,

as bold and erect as I can,

I walk through the open door

into the light with eyes solely focus

upon the prize on the other side…

My palm finds your cheek,

which I carress with a knuckle sweep.

Every nerve twitching, you see me,

and locked in a moment miracle,

I know I would lose control!

You would finally know for sure.

Obvious, the yearn craving loud,

I’d lean my cheek to brush yours,

ear an inch from my mouth, whisper,

“Forgive me, I can’t help myself…

a secret dream is to feel your lips

for just a moment of your time–

Indulgences utterly sublime!“

Oh muse, I watch your mouth move

not caring if there’s danger here.

Your fire gets me high and hot

and with you in me, I want to stay lost

with my core combustion churning

the love and lust within my breast,

a tasty treat of beautiful singing,

a lullaby to snuggle my mind tonight.

(If only I really could magically will my dreams turn real, lol. My truth is harder to swallow…

You know when something like a dream comes true, actually happens, and you’re on the other side, knowing likely you’ll never get such a riveting feeling again? Oh, my woe acts like an asshole! LOL;)

Oh, to kiss the lips that sing me sleep, a dreamy that’s steamy…

a birdie told me

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Accosting me when I try to leave, a birdie guards my hand-controls in the driver’s seat. I thought I was ready.

He said, “Don’t go.”

I want to be a bird with the most melodious voice. I want words of love to count. I want to be someone who can give a dreamer some steam.

I can’t be more than me. I am no fantasy.

Tonight I need a voice…

Norah Jones: Nightingale

A creative muse is a beautiful tale.

The Ultimate Love Song for Dreamers💋

Love Light

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sweet as candy,

as addictive

as lips part crack…

The layers of depth,

the hints of wandering,

the offering of perspective,

a journey of enlightenment

from beginning to end,

a glittering reflection

of intuitive introspection

this is what you showed me:

The open road of possibility,

the hills of the adventure,

golden fields, a canopy tree

the ocean waving the breeze,

even a pole calling me to speak

images of the beauty

I can’t see in my world,

I can’t find in me,

you expose me to a warmth

that tints my cheeks as fuchsia

as your flamingo shirt,

with my brain’s heat

pervading by body,

affixed I watch a star bursting

energy in front of me…

those open sky eyes,

the soft, gentle smile…

a moment I treasure,

filled with joy and laughter,

unlike any my brain

could possibly conceive

made my love light

again begin to glow brightly.

SHINE ON!

Inspiration to find my road to passion.

pulchritude

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Each piece,

a pioneering puzzle,

the ultimate game of intrigue,

even intimacy,

exploring how pieces fit together

but to bare the pulchritude

buried within the secret

life of another.

What do you see

in the morning

first light of day?

What do you do to play?

Do responsibilities get in the way?

OR Do you SIEZE THE DAY!

???

I can’t stop myself

from wondering along my way.

Grounded

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GROUNDED! I am. Hope is like magic to me. In a hopeful magic-mirror, I see a side of me that’s happy, electrified with new prospects of fun, giddy to grind with lust on my mind.      

BUT      Magic isn’t real. It’s a con.

When my brain gets too excited, it girgles naughty thoughts, and it tricks me into creating a story I want to hear, a fairy tale.     

About my days, I go slow, eyes looking up, thinking in pictures of…  

what if I found a connection

with a passionate friend, who tickles my fancy, OH yes, a muse for my fantasies…     

Every look, every touch elevates your love…that’s how I wish you’d feel about me, addicted like I’m your very favorite thing.  

Melancholy madness, knowing my truth. No magic can make me hope something will change. I’m doomed to accept my lustless fate, so I guess I’ll just go back to sleep.         

YET         

(I tell you true, this is happening right now!!!)

A yellow finch just now called my attention from my red pen bleeding onto my notebook paper.

Wheels turning I had to ponder, What is this bird saying?

He just keeps singing louder and louder, then I spot him high on a flexible limb, a cloud white floating as his backdrop:

“STOP! LOOK UP!”

He sang so lovely, not at all like the other birds, a voice and rhythm all his own.

Then, a sparrow chimes, “Just live…and be…love life…reality!”

As if stung by the sun, my eyes close, the pain in my neck feels like a knife in the muscle just turned, so a frown pulling my chin down, I wheel back into the cold darkness of the garage and close the door with a wrist-flip, twisting the deadbolt locked.

Enveloped by darkness, I see the remnants of that circle of light and I blink a quick-

CLICK!

Like a photograph, within my mind, I snap-shot this moment in real time where the moon eclipses the sun making me feel warm, less alone.

(I hope you never doubt your worth! I long to show you how much I need you in my life, or I swear I wouldn’t have been able to hang in this long:)

here kitty

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I want to be your pussy cat, climbing up your chest pit-a-pat, nuzzling my nose across your skin to tickle-lick the nape of your neck, and with a head rub upon your lobe, my purrrr vibrates waves of cravings to your inner-ear, “I need you!” echos loud and clear…(Can you hear???)

You may not have a cat, but as a cat owner, woth Banchee there’s one thing of which I’m certain: at times there’s a NEED, not just a want to be pet, aggression when denied, staring at me as if I don’t love him, like I lied. I’m kinda like that.

When I think I’ve lost you, when I’m SURE that your gone, when I’m positive I will NEVER, EVER get to rub your head again, I transform myself into a kitty, and I pretend that I’m your only pussy friend.

to lay me right in the head

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I lost my voice. Absconding with social scarcity into my mind, awaiting sleep where my subconscious allows it to speak…

You sit with me before a fire burning, and I confess, “I’ve written this scene in two different stories, but I couldn’t finish it.”

Your eyes, focusing on reading me, widen in a sad furrow, “Why?” Your simple reply, but I knew that you knew.

A stutter-start, “I…um…I…mmm…I need you to teach me…mmm, teach me what to do. It’s been an eternity since my desire dined upon your whims. With you, my dreams come true.”

You bow your head to nuzzle my neck, thick lips kiss a slow crawl to my chin, whispering, “First…”

You sit tall, peer into my eyes, and glide a fan of fingers over my cheekbone, slipping your fourth digit atop my bottom lip, when compelled my tongue closes over the tip while a moan at being touched escapes from deep in my throat, and then, you lean in and envelop me in your arms, kissing my lips, our tongues swimming a dance of love-lust…

On a rug of fur, to animals we return, clothes gone, kneeling with your cock standing tall, I pull on your head while I guide your hips down upon my body, and I push your tip to slip through my pussy walls, sliding deeper with each pressure push wetting wild the ride as my chest arches breasts into your palms.

With a breast squeeze, you pin my nipples together, a lick and a bite allthewhile pumping up your head into me, until I yell all sloppy, “Yes! I need you to plug the hole, oh yeah,” and you push, push, push down deep, and lean in to kiss me again, as I scream, “Yes…yes…plug the hole in my soul!” And filled creamy, you left me dreamy.

No more needs to be said. You laid me right in the head.

How was the big V?

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Did your big V make out like my big V:

vibration coming from watching sex on TV,

alone while with somebody,

no kiss or any happy to the V. 

Yet another holiday kidless and estranged.

While young, I always wondered what 20 years of marriage would be like, knowing that would never be me…

Now, I guess I know.

My big V forever will be neglected and longing for someone, something STIMULATING to take a moment and dote love upon me.

Unless…maybe You come satisfy my big V where X marks Your entry, hard-cocked and loaded to pump in and up the V between my legs, titlating my nips while wet kissing our hips rapid pecks perking us into a dick splashing bliss…

I sure hope You got something sweet for Your big V! I’d hate for You to not get a “Happy Valentine’s day” or a peck of a kiss.

It’d be a shame, for Yours is the kiss I miss.