For You Only, Love

your presence flows
through sensually,
nourishing, like Water
to a young flower,
if only you could
see how good you are
for my soul,
you’d never leave
and become eternally lost
in leaving your mark,
within me, while
devouring my
submissive
and pleasing spirit,
one I surrender with joy,
for you, only.

Sapphire Winter

she longed to use words,
like sufficient, levity
with her ear towards
barren and lacking,
as it passes
in echos
across the plains.
snow covered beauty
upon her feet, as icicles
dangle like earrings
her curvy body now, complete.
cover her in ice
and believe in her shimmer,
standing eloquent
within her sun’s
radiant heat upon a seductive  sapphire winter.

Madam Deliquesce

I am still
cerulean water,
born of dawn’s
prowess,
with my ability
to move ferocious,
withheld,
I can feel you
surround me.
Breath on my neck,
slight pressure
upon my shoulder blades
as my body bends
submitting.
I defy self-control
and react
internally, your
presence caressing,
my ache aglow.
I’m left to attempt,
waves lapping,
freely,
instead of
the embodiment
of quaver. This
my transformation
into deliquesce.

Sunday Kind of Love

I love everything Marc sings, and this song is no exception.

My thoughts and prayers go out to Houston on a repeat and rewind constant motion. Music helps keep my mind on something else for awhile.

This song requires, low light, a glass of something strong, and a fantastic slow lead by a strong arm, bending as it wraps around my waist.

Takes the rest of the world away…

What She Sees

there’s a picture inside her,
her mind, really
an arm gathering her close
a chuckle and nod,
seen outside the corner
of her hazel eye.
mature trees outline
what is before them
sounds of babbling water
fill her head,
smells of lilac
purple, not white
adorn her radiant skin
as the sun’s final kiss
winks just then.
barefoot beauty,
bit of dust upon her toes
boots next to hers
days work shows,
smells of the day
draw her in…
focus takes over
and she’s back
in her office again

Willingly

Shy, her shield,
Sparkling eyes never quite reaching
Those who find her,
Bashful, worn with grace,
Her words now yours
May be timidly drawn,
For those who deserve,
But written upon the skin
With wanton fingertips
For those who capture
Her touch, heart, her mind
And recognize the tingle
She causes
And willingly provides

That Moment

Make sure she allows eye contact, it will show trust.

She’ll want to touch you, she ought to lightly brush your chest.

Her hand should want to stop, lingering as she feels your heartbeat.

Maybe her fingers will tap in rhythm.

If it’s her eyes you see, make sure she sees yours completely.

When she leans in to kiss you goodnight, think. This moment. Is she who you’ve waited to see?