All in Poetry


The room sways and swells with the juicy sweet lips of my sisters, oozing around in love and compassion hoping to welcome each woman into a cozy womb of our own creation. After years of being injected with venom, with my first step forward being told to crush the toes of the girls by my side, the smiles around me wash my face clean, each one says please, welcome, I believe the best of you already, and back at them, from behind my cautious eyes I hope they can hear the same. Words fall over us, in patterns I've never seen before. They rub and stroke from tongue to ear, each one a tiny matchstick placed to build a castle. 

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Female Eroticism

You wouldn't let your mother see you're uncertain of your capability you're disabled by the thrilling ecstasy, her melting eyeballs sunk by your admission, craving the crown of her pussy with hot wax dripping and carved calloused fingers trip into her it's a psychotic quest a loop a mess you submit but find yourself crippled by her infinitive recompense, licked and tricked to a dusty road with ugly old men carved by clammy communes and a fucked up pandemonium perhaps of somewhat gruesome lies I tried but I'm tired let's stimulate the wires in the mind if wires are what you see?

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Brown against the turquoise blue of the ocean pool,
Her smile is pearly white as surfboard wax and seashell chokers. 
Seaweed draped from her hallowed head, 
I lift my camera to capture the rapture sprawled across her face
At marinated olives and Sydney rock oysters. 
A matured palate
A refined taste 

She is a rock pool of abundance. 

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