Words on Paper
Eaves’ Muse
She smiles with her eyes when I say the things that only I seem to come up with.
She is a woman identified woman who sees sex as a wonderful gift from the Goddess.
She knows that some poetry read aloud is foreplay and recites love and lust poems AND knows the difference, using that
Ocean
i’ve met a spirit so bright i sometimes squint when she smiles
and when she holds me lightning shoots from her skin to mine
is this real, is this now, is this here, is this really for me
a goddess’ gift in progress, brown eyes that i find myself in
golden energy longing to spread its wings and
corners, facades & shadows
sitting legs crossed pulled in
knees touching my chin
eyes opened blurred
ears hot red muffled
glass walls surround me
this corner is tight but secure
it's not real mind you
but no one knows.
watching me through
the eyes of others
knowing full well
it's all a façade
a reality existing only
in
Caution: Daydreaming At Work
I can smell her
sweet & perfectly ripe
picked just for me
I can feel her
wet & velvety soft
trembling, sweating, pounding
I can hear her
deep raspy & raw
calling my name over and over and over
fire red memories of a hot sultry night
wash over me
my senses tingling & tickling
dizzy with
blindsided by a bull
here i am
going through the motions
indifferent to love
not bitter, nor angry
just tired and internal
here i am
attempting to commune
with the goddess within
seeking to embrace the beauty
of my african hips and puerto rican ass
of my insatiable and sometimes naive mind
of my searching and often
