I Know You’re Checking Out Your Flaws

I know you’re checking out your flawsStanding at the mirror, counting imperfectionsNegative thoughts like these rather gnawSo I’m offering up thorough inspectionsIt’s best to take it slow around curvesHaste would be such an utter wasteWanting you to feel it in each of your nervesThis examination shall be conducted by touch & taste

Two Lost Souls, Like Beachcombers

Two lost souls, like beachcombersLooking for lost things; love & suchDistant memories of happinessThe feeling of being needed; a touchNestled within a Siren’s lullabyWe never could grasp our fateShrugging off the daily strugglesOur only choice is to circumnavigate

Daylight Creaking Up Over The Atlantic

Daylight creaking up over the AtlanticFirst light’s rays struggling over the seaMy bones seem to have a bit of rustBetter lubricate with some more coffee Dancing upon the shores of the St. John’sWe don’t need carpets; red or otherwiseWe only need our bare skin to touchEnding with me whispering between your thighs

Touched By The Whim Of God

Touched by the whim of God Revolutions in the unlikeliest of places Tasting the perfect tilt to her hips My benign lunacy comes in traces Diluted measurements by midmorning With inconvenient virtues & unholy glee Bringing small obsessions in my mind When the local widows invite me for tea Entering only after a courteous introduction

Dimples; The Marks Of The Fairies

    Dimples; the marks of the fairies Their love touched upon the very faces Chosen to endure above the others Dimmed, but remaining vague traces Magic’s residue upon your life Nature knowing what is true Selected to be special Out of all the woods, they settled upon you

I Just Want To Love You

I just want to love you With no drama or distractions I want to focus on your desires Us; & our primal interactions I’ll write of our epic romance How my forever feels on your lips But until we can touch again With anticipation you’ll drip

Picking Up My Girl Along The Way

Picking up my girl along the way A short enough skirt that’ll surely tease Soft tones upon the extinguished day Wine & song that I might forever please Snapping fingers & popping buttons Ample latitude that I might play her fool Admittedly; for her touch I’m a glutton My own words reveal me to still

Sometimes I Don’t Want To Love You

Sometimes I don’t want to love youBut I know there’s no real choiceMy heart longs for your touchYour kisses give my soul a voiceSometimes you don’t make it easyBut we always make it throughThis world is a beautiful placeMuch better since I share it with you

I Wish To Feel Her Heart

I wish to feel her heartTo feel every loving beatShe makes me smileEver since we first did meetI wish to touch her heartFor it always gives me hopeA silly grin creases my faceWith my prolonged grope Image by Tino Ehrhardt from Pixabay 

It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn

It was a one-eyed kind of morn With evening’s festivities going awry I scrawled out all I could remember Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy Slight images of a lovely form Olfactory sparks upon my brain Sketching the party’s guest list But no new faces could remain Racking my skull for a proper memory Writing

I Just Want To Love You

    I just want to love youWith no drama or distractionsI want to focus on your desiresUs; & our primal interactionsI’ll write of our epic romanceHow my forever feels on your lipsBut until we can touch againWith anticipation you’ll drip Image by joelleboente from Pixabay 

Running My Fingers Upon The Smooth Surface

Running my fingers upon the smooth surfaceKeeping them always against the grainI know my way through the RedwoodsThey’re my protection against the dark stains Born in the high desert among the cactiFaint echoes from mission bells of yoreGreat things come from fools with faithMisguided souls remain thirsty for more Stubborn & obstinate as hardwoodNeeding my

Walt Whitman

“Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body.” -Walt Whitman

Red Lipstick & A Tight Ponytail

  Red lipstick & a tight ponytail The pretty piano player; a punk rockette The domestic goddess with a need to be clean Living on the edge of the cosmopolitain set Hoarding her guilty pleasures fiercely The moral ambiguity is a stubborn crutch Ignoring nature’s perfectly placed laws But she’ll only accept the light’s soft