the sweet glow of January sun
chasing away the cold,
droplets of April rain cascading,
making new of old

a deep, soul-cleansing breath, 
after a stress-filled day,
simple, meditative calm,
chasing worry away

color-bursting lilies a’bloom,
shaking sleep from my eyes,
mourning doves a’greeting,
a euphonic surprise

that’s how it feels
to sit next to you,
and breathe in your presence; 
my souls feels anew

-image via Tumblr



you fall in love with the little things,
like that silly breath he takes at the start of a belly laugh,
the crooked way his smile forms when he’s watchin’ your hips sway at the kitchen counter,
or the gentle, deceiving way he runs his lips across your neck before he bites,
and before you know it, you’re addicted,
you can’t imagine going without those things;
you wake everyday jonesin’ for a fix,
stringin’ together one little thing into the next,
until your entire existence is one endless pursuit

and that’s when you know

-image via Tumblr


I dangle on your every word,
breath in every syllable,
take sustenance in every roll of your tongue,
each tooth-tap and lip-biting pronunciation,
snuggling into your context

your words flutter from your soul,
fertile and alive,
taking root in my soul,
caressing my emotions,
sewing me into your will
and stitching me into your desires

your words touch every place that was once untouchable,
telling everything untold,
opening doors we didnt know existed

your words hold my beating heart;
they lift me up, challenge me,
inspire me

your words are the gentle scrape of metal against metal,
the breathtaking tumble and click,
acknowledging my need,
and my absolute delight in your praise

speak to me,
my skeleton key

unlock me

-image via Pinterest

I Am

I am torrential rain in dreary drought,
and clear skies on the darkest days

I am the smell of black coffee at dawn’s breaking,
and rocking chairs in the autumn breeze

I am shady trees on mountainous trails,
and the song of paddles splash-pushing in the river

I am sunlight warming salt-licked skin,
and moonlight washing over gooseflesh 

I am rosy-cheeked memories,
and hope-filled daydreams 

I am the light in your eyes,
and the marrow in your bones 

I am hard-earned wisdom,
and success in the trying 

I am evolution, 
and one day at a time

I am not perfect,
but I am yours

I am forever, 
if you’ll have me

-image via Pixabay


come, lie next to me, Love,
let me nestle into your tenderness

wrap your strong arms around me,
protect me from the cold

allow me to close my eyes,
to sync to beating of your heart

I want to breathe you in,
and never let you go

you, my Love,
will always feel like quiet 

-image via Tumblr

Written in the Stars

he scribbled his intentions
across her willing flesh,
with fingertips and glistening
streaks of wetness,
leaving pools of hope and lust
in her clearly seeing eyes

he penned chapter after chapter
over her every curve and thew,
with warm whispers
fevered grips and moans,
and commands that pushed her toward
leaving her speechless, no need to speak

he illustrated their story
in the spaces that were once
between them

he bound their story
with a boundless spine
made of their blood and sweat

their story is written in the stars

~photo credit Tumblr, source 


when my exhausted back is aching
and my weathered hands are shaking,
when my tired eyes need waking
and my cluttered mind needs a’raking

there you are, tugging at frayed edges
that need staking,
helping pick up the jagged pieces
that are crumbling and breaking

never turning away
from love’s work that’s painstaking,
investing in the us
that’s forever in the making

we’ve found holy land
in this sacred giving and taking,
and everyday I’m blown away –
because my love for you is earthshaking

-image via Tumblr


there was a void inside her,
a dark closet with a locked door
where she dare not ignite the filament,
for, when light spread its ominous tentacles, 
fearful tears came and eyes averted, 
while scratchy, well-used voices shouted at her from shadowed corners,
reminding her she shouldn't, 
didn't measure up,
doesn't deserve

'good girls don't, 
curvy girls can't,
what would others think?
you can't be worth the effort

but, with him,
there was no tick on the wall
in which to measure up

with him, not only should she,
but it was expected of her

with him, she could open the door,
demolish the closet,
make room for light and dark
and all the in-between, 
all the time

he made her feel worthy,
and forget about what anyone else thinks 

he made her feel beautiful,

with him,
she is shameless

-image via Pixabay