Fire

The sheets with tiny pink rosebuds, incongruously innocent, are tangled beneath us.  Your lips travel slowly down from my earlobe down 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 discarded on the bed along with our socks.  Jeans and underwear create the only barrier that separates us from each other’s skin.  I want to know your skin as well as I know my own.  Every scar, every freckle, every tattoo, every perfect imperfection.

You hair is damp with sweat as you balance above me.  Your eyes are dark, intense, questioning.  I involuntary bite my lip.  I am already anticipating your fingers deftly unbuttoning, unzipping, removing the obstacles.  You take me out of my always busy head, reminding me that I am flesh, I am fire when I am with you.

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

The Jealous Rain

A jealous rain

fell from the envious sky

soaked your clothes

translucent

caressed your hair

like a lover

left lingering droplets on your eyelashes

that sparkled in the low light

traced your cheek bones

like a sculptor

bathed your skin

warm

but could not penetrate the surface

and reach your heart

where I live

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

 

 

 

Hands

She had lately been developing

an obsession with hands

They seemed to have taken on

almost mythic importance

 

Hands could push away

in anger

in fear

in violence

the tides

 

Hands could pull

a leg

a rope in tug of war

a dog back from running into traffic

a lover into orbit

 

Hands could scoop out

the inside of a watermelon

warm clothes from the dryer

The deepest secrets of a heart

 

Hands could hold

with great delicateness

a baby

an egg

another hand

 

Hands could smooth

wrinkled sheets

a furrowed brow

Worries back into manageable proportion

 

Hands could crush

an aluminum can

a Dear John letter

someone else’s hope and dreams

 

Hands could direct

to the left

to the right

up, down

to get the exact spot of the itch

 

Hands could strum a guitar

tickle the ivories

turn the pages on the music stand

conduct the orchestra

in a haunting symphony

 

Hands could reach across

entwine in hair

caress a cheek

unbutton a shirt

unhook a bra

unzip soft denim jeans

unleash buried passion

 

Hands could bridge the distance

between two souls

touch the heart

through a thick winter sweater

feel its rhythm

guide you home

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Petals

Peeling back my layers

Slowly, gently, carefully

One by one

Like the petals of a zinnia bud

 

My instinct is usually

To stay your hand

Afraid of what we will find

When we reach

My core

 

Delicate stirrings

Like butterfly wings

Whisper to me

To let you closer

Allow you to continue to unfold me

Slowly, gently, carefully

 

Growing hope that when we

Reach my center

We will find incandescence

We can bathe in

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

 

 

Dangerous Beauty

I reach

for the dangerous beauty

you hold in your eyes

I know

that those eyes

that honey mouth

with its silver tongue

make all kinds of promises

that you might deliver on

Or not

Depending on your mood

or whether mercury is in retrograde

or whatever coin you like to flip

Heads you win

tails

I lose anyway

I suspect

But the look you are giving me right now

the way it makes me feel

makes me think

it may be worth

the trip to hell

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Waking Dreams (revisited)

Your eyes haunt me

as I wander in this waking dream

the way you look at me

the way you look into me

seeing everything I keep hidden

everything that I keep close

you never look away

 

Your lips haunt me

as I wander in this waking dream

hypnotic, they spin words like diamonds

like rubies

like pearls

that you breath into my mouth

with your cinnabar kiss

they sparkle with your light

as they make their way to my heart

 

Your hands haunt me

as I wander in this waking dream

the way they caress my face

with aching tenderness

mold my curves

remake me into a shape

that fits perfectly against yours

 

The waiting haunts me

as I wander in this waking dream

the calendar on the wall

marking the days

an eternity passing

until your anticipated return

when we will together create

new dawn

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Ordinary Love

Inspired by You + Me’s haunting cover of No Ordinary Love


Reaching across

a distance

more formidable

than miles

fathoms

leagues

you reached out

your hand

to where I stood

alone

in all my protective titanium armor

trembling

afraid

You offered me nothing less

than your beating heart

Nothing more than this moment

this chance

You said

Jump

I won’t let you fall

Your eyes holding truth

your sweet smile steady

your voice so full

of strength

hope

trust

that even I

believed I could fly

That we could fly

So I jumped. . .

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

 

Night Music

Will you dance with me

in this silvery pool

of moonlight

that falls across

your face

like a watered silk?

Will you clasp my hand

hold it as delicately

but firmly

as though it is my beating heart?

Wrap your arm

around my body

let your warmth

become my warmth

your breath become

my breath

soft against bare skin

Listen to the night music

swell

expand

fill us with ache

longing

as we sway together

in these steps

of remembrance

this onyx night. . .

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Memory Brushes Past

Memory’s delicate tendrils

reach out

brush the nape

of my neck

cause an electric shiver

that courses

down my spine

 

The past

whispers

syllables

sweet and breathy

that tickle

my ear

remember

it implores

remember

 

Crisp white sheets

whiff of cedar

sound of the ocean

butterfly brush

of eyelashes

against

salty skin

strawberry lip gloss

kisses

so soft

they dissolved like sugar

and lemon

on my eager tongue

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved