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 … Continue reading Skin
I have always loved the first time with a new lover the sense of adventure discovery experiencing their skin for the first time unclothed vulnerable lining up our curves our edges exploring how our bodies fit together I have always loved running my hands unhurriedly over a new lover’s uncharted topography inquiring about scars and … Continue reading Bodies at Rest and Motion
you are liquid warmth on long frosty nights you are soft whisper in a world that shouts you are gentle touch in a room of sharp corners biting edges you are jewel tones in sterile stark spaces you are embracing acceptance at the end of the longest day when the world has done its best … Continue reading Shelter
The sheets with tiny pink rosebuds, incongruously innocent, are tangled beneath us. Your lips travel slowly down from my earlobe to my neck, marking your territory. You stop at my collarbone; nipping it gently with your teeth before lifting your head to look at me. Our shirts are lost somewhere on the floor, my bra … Continue reading Fire
Brave & Reckless 