Destined in fractures of time…

the red leather strap of my stiletto

slipped around my ankle

lightly brushing pale skin

as I fastened the buckle 

Sweetly I sigh

thinking of the moment 

a few hours ago

when his lips 

were touching my smooth bare skin 

such a rawness

a darker need he brings

A light blush arose from my cheeks 

as I remember where

his mouth had ventured

why do I fight it 

try to resist his charm

I should know by now that 

eventually I give in

opening for him

feeding his hunger

and never am I more elegant

than when I am splayed under

his commanding presence

Slowly I place the weight

of cold steel in its holster

against the heat of my 

red-marked thigh

so use to the snug fit

I am never without it

just like I am never without

teethmarks left by grazing desire

it gets harder to leave him

I want to remain closer 

stay inside his atmosphere 

yet it never seems to be in the cards

not within the circumstances we live

If only to wish once upon my heart

to be indifferent towards him

like I am with all the other targets

ice cold as the steel strapped to me

to become impenetrable

thick-skinned

ricocheted 

bulletproof 

maybe then I could stay away from him

but he is a drug injected

rushing inside my veins

pumping life’s blood and ecstasy 

I constantly ache for my next fix

desperate for more

arrested by the high

I shake off the thought  

of our sensuous play

my mind needs to switch gears

to be alert to my surroundings

not lost in passion remembered

With more urgency 

I finish dressing

time is running out 

headquarters has sent word

we are to leave immediately

He was making arrangements 

for our departure and soon would be 

waiting for me at our favorite cafe

the place of our afternoon ritual

during these stolen moments 

perhaps we make the time

so we could hold on

to what is good and familiar

to bring us back to

a beautiful moment shared

when we first met

I smile as I grab my keys & handbag

thinking how thoughtful

he is of my well being 

his gentle tenderness wrapped inside

a dangerously lethal exterior

certainly without a doubt he would 

order me biscotti or flaky pastry 

to coat my belly from the wickedly strong 

froth laden coffee I love to drink

he doesn’t know it

but secretly I order that coffee

mainly to enjoy the delicate foam sticking

to the arch of my upper lip

knowng his thumb will automatically 

reach towards my mouth

to lightly wipe it away 

then he’ll slip the tip of his thumb

between his lips to taste it

always with deep pleasure

shown in his grin 

as if my red lips alter it more flavorful

So sensual is he

clever and cunning

alive with keen intent

in every movement

devastatingly handsome

in his impeccable taste for clothing

so quick to turn the eyes of both

male and female persuasion

he has that way about him

even with every personality

he transitions into 

so masterful is his natural disposition

and like this black pencil skirt

 in the the way it clings 

drawing tight to my curves

I too cleave tight to him 

Reaching the door of the cafe

I stand in the frame

scanning the room  but I don’t need to

I feel him

his alpha aura fills the room

and my breath catches as 

I glance to the left knowing 

I am in his line of sight

aware that once our eyes lock 

lightening strikes

hitting us with the impact of eternity 

He and I seem destined to live

in fractures of time

perhaps a thousand centuries by now

I slowly make my way towards him

desire clenching in the deepest of me

how many more times will I 

watch him fade into the faceless crowd…

I feel at home

walking into his storm

He knows it

and as always with potency

in the closing of these precious moments

his lips will press slowly onto mine

deliberately in want and desire

as his tongue skillfully crafts

the ending of a poem

as if this is his last kiss

and He, the spy who loves me

will remain forever gone
@writingofM 1/29/16

Posted to #ashverse 

F bomb

It’s unfortunate

if the “F” word offends you

Feel free to unfollow as you see fit

I’ve not the time

to bother with insignificant 

trivia matters  of sometimes using 

 crude language. Somethings 

require the use such a hard word!

I am busy

living

writing

feeling

breathing

all my love & emotions

uncoiling the beauty within me

creating substance

from all my faults & short comings

and sometimes that requires releasing the 

ugliness of such a world full of

punishing cruelties

be love

not hate 

bring tranquility

not strife

and for fuck sake

stop judging!

we all are fallible

all we are 

is both

sinner and Saint 

unfair to you…yet…

I have been unfair to you

letting my passion

take stage

to an empty audience

I have neglected your wounds 

and been the reasons of more

I’m sorry

for my force of nature

aching for the 

sensuousness of your unknown

yet I am afraid

 I can not stop

this wildfire

sweeping

raging 

building with every word I write

woven with every thought I have

and somehow

I still try to persuade you

to join or drag you with me

beating inside my chest

asking you to touch scars

heal open sores

with a rhythm only I know

I have not been fair to you

yet I can not stop 

this design of passion

that blooms deep colors for you

craving deeper reds & blacks

searching oceans & earths 

finding hued flaws & sorrows

for what I desire

whether for a fleeting moment 

or for an eternity

is profoundly more than what 

I ever imagined 

I have not been fair to you

I have place you too high

for wanting & expecting more

than you can give

yet…

still

I crave

I ache

I demand more of you

I have been unfair to you…

yet…I still call for your 

blade to bleed me

portion pour…

And she catches

her breath

speechless

restlessly writhes

under limitless

skies

where his portion pours

slowly

as aromatic oils

saturate pores

to awaken senses

enliven blood flow

lips to cite hushed secrets

graze upon sensuous skin

encounter her

linger

having his way…

then she sighs

shaking her head

grasping her her mouth

as felled dark stars

line her eyes

dusting

her age

& improbability

A wanting tale…

a wanting tale

of languid tongues

tasting each other’s

seasoning

unconditioning swirls

taken hostage

by desire

slowly raising bones

stirring waters crowning

driving rain befalls

wildfire overflows

sailing higher 

lifting high into

the wilds 

lasting

lamenting moans

secretly locking

you and me

flames coming to be

unleashing

willingly

spinning air

Breathing heavier

oh the unknown 

we are there

design our twisted art

overtaking us

there

where we are

writhing skin of

a wanting tale

straighten your crown…

There comes a point in life when you are placed in the position of responsibility. When you are looked upon as the one in charge. The leader…whether well loved or┬ádespised.

Eyes point to you waiting for you to take command. And so you do, because for whatever reason, you were placed there. With the position comes payment but it’s currency is not something you can suspend, or cash out, or spend. Rather you save and deposit into your heart bank…something to be treasured because how does a mother, a woman, deplete the bank of love. We are incapable of not loving.

So you do what you must, you wake at all hours, swallow your worry, wipe away tears, hug away pain despite carrying your own. You cry in silence, and smile through heartache, and cover up the bruises, hide the internal bleeding, paint away dark circles and choke back weariness. You hold a great weight upon your shoulders and inside your heart because no one else is the stand-in when you haven fallen. You hobble with broken arms and legs, slip on messes and run on borrowed breath, work in the dark and burn under the sun because it requires that of you when you’re placed in the position of greater responsibility.

You are the leader and for some women, they reap the greatest of benefits. making it seem effortless, full of favors, receiving trinkets of quality, well cared for, well loved, wanted for their outer beauty. Yet, for others, with it the position comes a great price, a test of strength and stamina. Usually ran haggard, barely breathing, struggling in the climb, falling down, worn, neglected, and unloved and you are often left alone in that state… Ignored.

As a leader, whether weak or strong, whether you are the cause or effect, or both, regardless of how well you maintain the status quo…when it all falls apart, when it gets down to the dirt and grime of it. When everyone is standing around staring at you with hurt and venom in their eyes, and broken, and breathing hard after the fallout…You are the one they blame!

And you stand taking bullet after bullet, remain standing as the arrows fly, and spears stab, even when you are handed the cup of poison, you straighten your crown and swallow what has been given. There is no one else to take your place. You take hits because you are the leader!