Dragons and Peonies

The skin I am in

Longs to become acquainted

With the skin you are in

Our eyes meet

Across the room

And I forget that

We are not alone

We came tonight with

A larger group of friends

But we are increasingly

Attuned to each other


There is something in the air


I like the

Boldness of your gaze

As you keep catching my eye

Your snaggle tooth grin

The sound of your laughter

At some inside joke

The tantalizing glimpse

Of ink peeking out of

Your shirt sleeve


I wonder what it will look like

Lined up against the ink

On my arm

My gentle peonies

Against your fiery dragon

Your jeans and ironic tee

Hint of lanky muscles

Of steel

That I think will fit nicely

Against my curves


I cannot stop the smile

And slight blush from

Crossing my face

You seem to be

Reading my mind

Across the room

Your cocked eyebrow

And slow lazy smile

Indicate to me

That you are as

Distracted by me

As I am by you


I watch you make your


To your friends

That you have been

Only half paying attention to

Before you saunter

My way

When you are finally

Standing in front of me

I feel the warmth coming

Off your body

Catch a whiff of your clean scent

There is a sparkle in your eye

“Shall we?” is all you need to say

It feels as natural as breathing

When you reach for my hand

And we leave this crowd behind

Aware only of each other


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved


Manic Monday

Can you run your hands

over my bare back?

Tangle your fingers

in my hair?

Draw me into your arms

make me liquid

Help me get me lost

in your kiss

I need the world

to fade away

for just a few hours more this

manic Monday

Let’s get lost in silk skin

entwined limbs

warm mouths

arch into each other under the covers

let go of self

in that place where time has no meaning

and I have no boundaries

no limitations


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved


We never talked about the monster inside me.  Crouched on the bed, cold white skin, dark pupils dilated like dinner plates, your bodily fluids fragrant on my tongue, feral and remote, licking my own blood off my fingers.  Repulsive and enticing in equal turns.  Never knowing if I would fade into the night for days or months, or pounce like a panther, holding you hostage on the edge of pain and pleasure, making you moan deep in your throat, your fingers knotted in wrinkled sheets, relishing your scream of release that I alone owned, finally settling down like a contented house cat, licking cream off both our mouths.


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Reunion (Revisited)

Time slows down

the moment we touch

rest of the world

drifts away

There is only

remembering you

remembering us together


I see now that the memories

haunting me in the middle of the night

these long weeks apart

were just ghostly

pallid things


You are here now

and you are technicolor

to my starved eyes

Familiar smell

of your warm skin

intoxicating as I press

my nose gratefully

to your neck


Feel of your

bare skin

under my palms

against my mouth

pressed against me

both homecoming

and wonder of exploration


For every detail I have remembered

I discover forgotten nuance

memory had softened the edges

of what it feels like to mold ourselves

to each other


We have always been each other’s

missing jigsaw pieces

Most fully whole in connection of our





You sleep peacefully beside me now

Lines and tension in your face

smoothed away

There is a vulnerability

an openness to you

lying next to me


I lay my head gently

carefully on your shoulder

You wrap strong arms

around me

sleepily nuzzle my hair

murmur words of love

of missing me

of missing us

remind me drowsily

that we have always been 

home to each other

Finally I feel

at peace


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Curves and Edges

I want

you to learn me with hungry palms

nimble fingers that slowly undo




until fabric falls away

into silken puddles

at my feet


I want

you to learn me with passion’s kiss

gentle nips

velvet tongue that whispers poetry

into my ear

into my breath

into my waiting mouth


I want

you to learn me with your enveloping warmth

until your body intimately knows

every texture

of my skin

caresses the terrain

of my curves

my edges


my liquid secrets

and the sound of your name

on my lips


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Night is a Crime in My Mouth Revisited

Night is a crime in my mouth

waiting to unfold

on my taste buds

notes of tart black cherry



white oak


Night is a crime in my mouth

waiting to be swallowed whole

neon light recklessness

your back alley whiskey kiss


Night is a crime in my mouth

waiting to unfold

promises made by your lazy hand

moving up my bare thigh

rich delicious skin

melting into mine

I long to taste on my tongue

everything this wicked night

has to offer


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved


Poetry in Motion

Your palms remember

warm silk of my skin

when they travel the contours of

my curves and edges

Your lips remember

my coffee scented kiss

softness into fierceness

yielding into claiming

Your fingers remember

shape of my hip

what it is to cradle my head

when you draw me ever closer

in the poetry we write

together in tangled sheets


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Skin (revisited)

It is rumored that there are 50 words

In the Eskimo language for snow

I ponder

Why are there not 50 words in the

English language

That I could draw upon

To describe that moment

When your bare skin

Touches my bare skin?


Many call me a writer, a poet

And yet words utterly fail me when I try to capture

That first exquisite brush of contact

There should be words to convey

How many textures a single human body can contain

From the smoothest silk of the insides of your arms

The iron of your biceps

The hair on your chest

The calluses on your feet when our legs brush


There should be a whole new language

To describe

The warmth of your body under our sheets

Pressed up against mine

It is not just the heat of rising passion

It is also tender blush

That spreads from my cheeks to my toes

Warmth that radiates outwards

Easing my winter chill


There should be at least 50 words

To describe the sensation of

Our mouths meeting in the middle of the night

We have created a symphony, a lilting duet

Between us for lips and tongues and teeth

That has only been refined over the years


There should be  at least 50 words

In this inadequate mother tongue

For how the feel of your nakedness

Pressed reverently against mine

Our lips and hands entangled in each other

Takes me blessedly away

From the chaotic overpopulated city inside my head

Allowing me for a moment

Just to be


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved