December

Wintry winds Twinkle Pearls of poetry Dance slow motion Pulsing Calling her body A polar diamond Burns deep Wetting the laced body Squeezing releasing Purring clawing Belted behind layers of denim Chastise her His eyes sizzle her skin Teeth tear her sweet creamy flesh Leaving a Salty taste of Lust upon their lips

Slow Dance

In the slow dance it is easier to work as our bodies Come together paper and pen no concern nor reward Composing is not the goal but as the body moves under the purposeful hands charged and yearning we cut the leash you create me against your thighs Filled with images moving through our words …