Poetry
* Contains Mature Subject Matter *
All poetry on this page comes from the series A Caribbean Spell, currently seeking pubication
Seattle Erotic Arts Festival, 2011
Featured in the Red Light District Anthology
Conjure the Wind
Let us conjure some wind love. Wind to fill our sails speed us to safety. As we test the strength of our magic. Enter my circle with passion alert. As I call the quarters, your heat at my back. The sea beneath us senses our frission. The deck stretches to our groans. Ride me gently as I reach for the air, stir the elements to respond to my need. I feel you inside me deep as the sea. Pressed to your chest we kneel in the circle. Your hands at my breasts your breath on my neck. Together we call to the wind. Your strength matching mine. Intent to intention. Our magic rises to answer. Thrust answers thrust. I am lost to your swordplay as the wind fills our sails.<——————————————————>
In the Dark
In the dark of that cell I felt your hunger I longed to fulfil it To fill your mouth with me. Slide down your throat and see your thirst slaked. Your hot breath on my skin at my throat left me wet In the dark I would have welcomed you. <——————————————————>Seattle Erotic Arts Festival, 2010
Placed in top ten
The Dark Dance
Blood as an
answer.
New to me
and thee.
A food to
hold the
fangs at
bay.
To hold thy
prick
safe.
A darker
play
ripe for
disaster.
We dance
the edge
of a knife,
dear.
To keep the
fangs at
bay.
None will
understand
this red
dance.
But we—who
saw the
fang—felt
the draw.
Know blood
holds us
safe.
So, lead the
dance
in the dark.
Call me
to thy
thirst.
Speed my
heart to
fear.
Blood keeps
the fangs away.
<——————————————————>
Seattle Erotic Arts Festival, 2009
Placed 6th
Eruption
Miranda is erupting
with moisture!
Beading along her
sacred walls
and falling like sweet rain
to a parched land…
The nectar of your sex
is mine, love.
The fragrant valleys
Welcome
the invasion of pain,
lovingly given.
Care not for scandal, love.
Nor the eyes of others,
not their fingers,
or tongue,
pricks
or toys,
for it matters not
who visits with thee,
it is my home.
<——————————————————>
Your Body Is A Map
Your body
is a map
my love.
I travel
with my
hands
my
lips.
In caresses
I feel your
muscles
flow
your tensions
gather.
The thrust of
your hips
build the
electrical
charge.
I feel it gather
at the base
of your
cock.
Buried so
deeply
within my
field.
The lightning
of your
coming
sets me
afire.
With the push
the thrust
the grasp
and gasp
Your body is
a map
I travel
love.
The bumps
and scars…
the patterns
fascinate
me
love
Your skin is a map
I travel
