just enough to keep things interesting

It takes time to find comfort in warmth

when all you’ve known are the scars

of being burned by fire

but he’s not fire this one-

he is water with a little bit of dirt

just enough to keep things

interesting

slowly I’m learning

to soften my walls and open

parts of myself that I’ve kept shut

for a long time now

slowly I’m learning

to bend so I can

hold all of him

without drowning

in love

again.

passion odyssey

In the past I’ve had passions that felt

like sunshine during a rainstorm

and others that were quick currents

briefly bringing me further and further

away from the shore of who I am

passions that came and went

with barely a whisper

passions that got hot too quickly

and burned me like the sun in a mid-Summer day

passions that faded and those that persisted

passions that felt like the first ocean swim

and others that carried the thrill and

melancholy of the last

passions that broke me

and those that glued me back together

passions of desperate late night hands

and those of Sunday afternoon naps

passions that molded me into the woman I am today

one quick breath or long sigh at a time.

passion contract

hike up my dress with your hands

and claim what’s so rightfully yours

sealed and delivered by way of contract

black ink on paper marking my commitment

to be faithful

Now it’s your turn to keep your side of the bargain

the pleasure I outlined in plain English in section five

and defined under “terms”

see if part of me is intelligence

the other part is fire

let me show you my love is worth laboring over

it’s not every day we discover sparks

on the skin of another

tonight all I want to be is

the oxygen to your flame.

sensual saturdays

unzip my dress and

let your fingertips trail down my body

imprint every inch of me with

urgent desire

uncover the places that gift shivers

and with your lips suck the mundane out of my skin

let me show you passion is more than

short breaths and desperate hands

passion is how my eyes memorize the

fire in yours as I take you in

I settle into the pleasure, I sip it in slowly

and soak in the feel of our bodies dancing together in the dark

I don’t need you to take me to the edge of who I am.

I don’t need you to make me forget my name.

I need you to meet me here, in my power and at my center

without any expectation of where this thirst will take us

and who we’ll be and what it will look like

when we get there.

when we merge.

hallelujah

We sweat out the sheets

lose our breath trying to keep up with passion

misplace fingertips to find places that

gift shivers down the spine

and lend lips to the other in an

offering of pleasure.

 

This bed is our temple

where we call out to God

with eyes closed

in the hope that we

can stay in this heaven

forever.

 

just a boy

I’ve always been a fan of the fixer uppers,
maybe because for a while there
I thought of myself as one, or maybe
I was so broken that I thought I deserved the same,
some more jagged sharp edges to pierce my center,
another critical mind to judge me harshly,
or maybe I was just as shallow
in my simplistic demands for passion,
maybe just as dumb to think I could keep
fire separate from warmth;
hands separate from love…
a line drawn in the middle with an incredulous finger
when it became obvious he had no heart to gift back.

was that really a choice or just me giving in?

Now he calls me a girl
as if he hadn’t yet met the woman I’ve become
and I call him a boy
because that’s exactly
who he is.