nsfw
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Demure, shy, nervous even, you seem. I am unsureif it is your age, a relative inexperience, differencesin social reciprocity caused by the autism I doubt is diagnosed,or maybe I’m intimidating. It would not be the first time. And I – I am a force with which to be reckoned, some days I worrymy confidence might…
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I’ve thanked you often, for the role you’re playing in my healing. Thank you for being a safe placeto explore desires. Thank youfor fulfilling some of my wildest fantasies.Thank you for reminding methat constructive, honest conversationis attainable. Thank you for the whiskey-soaked memoriesand all of the words you’ve inspired,dare I say some of my best…
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i.There’s a darkness in me but she, like so many other facets of the diamond I’ve becomeunder pressure, lives behind masks and veils.She exists as a duality; two side of the same coin.I remember meeting the one in twilight reveriesbefore I was old enough to know her name,but even then I knew both that I…
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Healing has been the hallmark of our odysseyand this last hurrah follows our patterns; it hurtsstill. There is a profound sense of loss, a bereavementas we drop out of dynamic, but even this sunderingis marked by a certain grace, consecrated by clearcommunication and consent. My tears fall into your hairas I hold you against me,…
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Vivaldi. I recall almost a tonne of Warmblood horsefleshbeneath me, sun absorbed by the bulging glossy ebonyof epaxial musculature, and I feel the raw power.He is a tightly coiled spring and I am under no illusionthat my physical strength is any match for his.There remains an aura of wild about him, and I knowhe could…
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The ink is fading from my skin(what a way for a flower to die)and my mind turns to the marksI left on yours, a calling card,an autograph from the artistwho was proud of her creation,proud even of the clayfor the way it yielded to her touch,the way it sprawled and grewalong her scaffolding, a scandent…
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Brinkmanship. To Pleasureand Pain, it is a mere gameas they vie for triumphover the battlefield of my flesh,and I, I am not paltry collateral damagenor simply the canvasupon which this masterpiece artworkof craving and climax is created.To yield is not passive.I participate in the compositionof your opus, respond to your touch,and you coax a duetfrom…
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He’s squeezed enough tears from me over the years, so these are not his. The day will come (I must believe it) when simple kindnesses will not notch an arrow then send it humming through the air until it hits the targethe left hanging on my heart. Again I bleed,but these tears water the roots…
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I offer you my tears, willingly, and yet we both have to work for them. Whilst their threatening presence ever lurksfor a variety of reasons, it takes the perfect storm to breach the dam walls. You’ve seen what I can take, and it requires a certain finesseto dance at the borders of breaking me,walking that…
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I rememberdry mouth and racing heartexhilaration and trepidationknit by determinationto experience for myselfthe phenomenonthat was the desideratum of my hiraeth.Todaythe approach is familiarand no longer needs a mapand despite the intoxication of anticipationand reason reminding methis is both fledgling and ephemeralmy pulse calms, my breaths deepenas I ascend the stairsand peace descends.With youI am able…
Spilled Ink from the Vault 