Sand BoxesThe light smiles a harmony With the leaves, and the clovers teasing your hair Who ignite a waltz under chrystal chandelier Illuminating beauty and admirers Brushing their lips against your ear Beauty untamed and modest in the playground Where lovers grow - no time to wait - Innocently holding her hand a whileSand Boxes
HumdrumThe empty bottles blow a melancholy tune Husky breath singing moonlit blues. Smoke rings at my fingertips –Humdrum
I flick them down and we play. Sweetness tickling my toes
And the night fades another lonely day. Sailing clouds rub against my nose and Disappear.
They disappear – As does the beating in my heart – But what does remain, from you, is the cool and wistful feeling Of your breath on my neck
And the hum-drum of your husky throat Ejaculates into my ear, and I know that you are Sleeping –
mehThe descending darkness purred and hissed in mockery of the street lamps and their artificial light. Or was it I who purged the hilarity of the hour? – with my freckles that mirrored the dispersion of cat’s eyes in the all-encompassing cape that knew secrets so unholy that it hid them from the Mrs – condensing them into thick mist – a gift from God in early morning – typically pointless – evangelically suffocating. Teas – tease – teasing was the moon, a glutton that ate sunlight, and in it’s transparency I can see it reflected in the guttural regions of it’s roundness – and on it’s ameh
Devil in DisguiseShe spent all afternoon picking out her outfit for the night. It came down to a red dress that showed off and emphasised the voluptuous curves of her body, the other was a black dress which could make any man bend to her will. It was a tough decision, showing off her body or bending men to her will, both were appealing in every way and both were things she loved to do. After much thought, she decided on the red dress, it was fiery and sexy, just like her personality. She readied herself to go for it was getting quite late; she slipped the dress over her head, letting it slide down her body like the graceful fall of a feather as it makesDevil in Disguise
Rain is Genius
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Golden days never last, but we enjoy them while we can.
I read some of your stuff, far out you're good!
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