Where will I touch you the first time

if I ever was to meet you?

If desires build trails, we must follow

until the fires are extinguished

or we burn down to embers-

I can almost feel you,

drunk with crimson lips of wine

numbing all my senses

if with a kiss I could swallow

your entire universe

and the universe remembers

how a flicker of light burst into fire-

And how your breasts may feel

under my trembling hands

playful nipples enticing

my mouth to satisfy my wants,

my teeth wanting to bite

and slowly drink the rising

desperation of a moment-

Then let the black lace peel

from around your waist

to expose your moonlike skin

driving me insane with desire,

my mouth creating streams

of honey flowing down

to the river between your legs.

There is where I begin

to find a placed filled with dreams

of heavens,

blissful elixir of life

in your flow I will rise

and find the fountain of youth

where my thirst will drown-

And I will take you,

until galaxies collapse into the light

you have become,

entering every space inside

in a rhythmic dance,

drunk with the feel of skin on skin

on legs spread wide

to receive everything I am,

every dream, every wish

and every want-

So tell me,

where will I touch you the first time

if I ever was to meet you?




“I want to make you weep. I want all your pleasure, Iris, all your pain, everything you are. Come for me.” And she felt herself bow with the stark white bliss of her epiphany, the shattering realization of his words and his hands and his mouth. She was gasping for breath, shaking, lost, unseeing. The center of her being pulsing with pleasure.”

― Elizabeth Hoyt, Duke of Desire







There was heat in your touch

of caressing fingers

a touch I yearn for when no longer here

but your presence lingers

in between my sheets

in between my memories of a sweet affair

when your body gave me the relief I wanted

and you became the air

and the blood that rushed through my heated skin.

There was heat in your kisses

that made my head spin

when you strode above riding me with pleasure

and your breast became tantalizing toys

for my mouth to play an enticing game.

You became a want every single day

 and I lost myself to the love you gave

and so badly needed,

you became my heat in the coldest night

with your burning flame.


“The Moth don’t care when he sees The Flame.

He might get burned, but he’s in the game.

And once he’s in, he can’t go back, he’ll

Beat his wings ’til he burns them black…

No, The Moth don’t care when he sees The Flame. . .

The Moth don’t care if The Flame is real,

‘Cause Flame and Moth got a sweetheart deal.

And nothing fuels a good flirtation,

Like Need and Anger and Desperation…

No, The Moth don’t care if The Flame is real. . . ”

― Aimee Mann

To Burn



To Burn


Ah those crumbs you leave behind for me to feed

just leave me hungry for the whole loaf-

You have a way to tickle dreams my dearest girl

entice my mind and make me need

our coupling words to plant a seed

and maybe grow into something more-

And then I feel the lava flow across my chest

and on my tongue a crave to taste

what flavors hide between your lips,

to rush my wants with hungry haste

my hardness strong

I’ll spread apart your eager hips

to find the streams of lava flow

and burn myself down to the core-


“As if you were on fire from within.

The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”

― Pablo Neruda






Maybe it is better not to know

taking shape in my mind I can draw you

next to me,

perfection simply known by desires

dabbed in colors sprung to life

on a way only I see-

Close your eyes,

can you feel my loving touch?

Gliding fingers past your breasts

every nerve asking for more

finding places deep within your core-

Close your eyes,

can you hear my shorten breaths?

Flaming slowly around your neck

while my hardness enfolds your back,

sometimes better to imagine than to see-

Close your eyes,

can you feel my weight on you?

Rhythmic cadence in between lodged

desires coming home,

lost in you,  bone to bone-

Close your eyes,

Can you love me without knowing who I am?

Every fiber of your body calls my name

for your skin to douse in passion

and set aflame-


“There are painters who transform the sun to a yellow spot, but there are others who with the help of their art and their intelligence, transform a yellow spot into sun”

― Pablo Picasso






When I look at you pass by

my emotions flutter wildly within its cage

waking up wants long ago tamed-

And I crave to feel your mountains and streams

by a stroke of time forged and shaped,

the rubbing of naked skin inflamed

smooth with lustrous sweat, and I

eager to ride my desires with no saddle

trotting gracefully when you straddle

a moment and stir up my dreams-


“I will bathe in your warmth ma petite. Roll you around me until my heart beats only for you. My breath will grow warm from your kiss.”

― Laurell K. Hamilton, Burnt Offerings

I Wish I Was


I Wish I Was


I wish I was sunlight

to lick the milk of your thighs

and taste secrets ‘tween your legs

Don’t you know?

I built my castles close to shore

and every time I want much more

you hold me captive in sky filled eyes

Release me woman in roaring waves

to catch my breath and softly say

I wish I was the cool soft rain

to wet the skin I so much crave

Don’t you know?

I built my castles close to shore

for you to wash them all away.


“Oh no. Don’t smile. You’ll kill me. I stop breathing when you smile.”

― Tessa Dare

Midnight Skin

Midnight Skin

Midnight Skin


Midnight stuck to your skin-

I remember the softness of kisses that lasted

to the taste on my tongue which contrasted

with the taste on your breasts of perfume,

like a dream I remember our moment a such

when at times if alone I can still feel the touch

of midnight on your skin,

and I’m doomed-


“Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

“See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

O, that I were a glove upon that hand

That I might touch that cheek!”

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet