the tingle
of sweat downpouring
pass eyebrows slanted
wiped with hands rough
callous from a labored load
I stand alone
waiting for the caress
that I could only dream
about since I was 13 years old
firm with the smell of Old Spice
I’m open to anything now



deep in your folds
you grip tight
adjust the saddle
and throw your head back
ready to buck

that precious liquid
creating puddles
on our sheets

staring into eyes flickering
in moonlight
you flash an approving smile
wrap legs around waistline
an ease to a perfect fit
is this where love begins?

The Stranger

The Stranger

inside the fleshy folds
of your sex machine
moans are deep and rhythmic
synced with the movement
of my body
your eyes, glossy

sparkling in the moonlight
pressed up
against this window
for a peek inside

with 6 shots of Jack
rushing to my brain
a dance I know all too well

sweat gleams
in my effort to please
a body not worthy of a name

The Poem #2

So I have been thinking a lot (over-thinking really) about the poem that Veronica decided to send me on Tuesday. Of course I want to hear from her, I just prefer, no need, some consistency from her. That means if she is going to reach out to me, it can’t be once a month.  It not only confuses me, but also sets me back.  When I feel like I am finally able to deal with the loss of her, she comes back.  I want her to stay so badly, but then I will reach out to her and then nothing–no response at all and I am left feeling empty and abandoned.  At any rate, the real reason for this post was to share the response to the poem she wrote me:

Evaluting Conscious

lingered thoughts of yesterday’s mistakes form callouses
around hearts hungry
for numbness

A passion’s hatred bares
consent to strangers thinking
only of lust

carnal instinct captures
snippets of tomorrow’s memories trained for one

bored curiosity lead
hands into uncharted pastures searching subjects deemed

traces of a past life linger
stalls escape from this puppet master cloaked
in rage

diamonds carve out a life
I once dreamed shattered
by a wrath I cannot tame

arms outstreached
seeking resilience