To The Lady on the Train,
The memory of your body is printed by scent in our bed.
With scented oil and my palms press love into your skin. I felt it seep through, into your flesh. From my fingertips into the soft smooth strength of your back. From the pad of my thumb into the round of your buttocks. I left trails along the length of your arms and transferred from my forearms into your thighs and hips - and an arc of kisses from your navel to the small of your back as you turned underneath of me...
The oil from your skin, the full length of you rolled onto the sheets...
The scented shape of you lays there still, and fills me this night...
The Man in the Station
Monday, 21 October 2013
Saturday, 19 October 2013
Happy Birthday, Love
Happy Birthday, Love.
You are more beautiful and stronger with every passing day. You continue to surprise and challenge me in so many ways. I am more and more in love with you through everything that we have gone through.
You are more precious than diamonds. You change light and sparkle - everything splintered in brilliance. You amaze me.
Wishing that I could find a way to make this day special for your and to find the right words to convey how special you are...
Wishing you all the happiness that you deserve, all the love that you need, and every birthday wish to come true. I love you.
Happy Birthday.
Just me.
You are more beautiful and stronger with every passing day. You continue to surprise and challenge me in so many ways. I am more and more in love with you through everything that we have gone through.
You are more precious than diamonds. You change light and sparkle - everything splintered in brilliance. You amaze me.
Wishing that I could find a way to make this day special for your and to find the right words to convey how special you are...
Wishing you all the happiness that you deserve, all the love that you need, and every birthday wish to come true. I love you.
Happy Birthday.
Just me.
Friday, 18 October 2013
Want...
To The Lady on the Train,
Sometimes when you get just a little bit of something it can make you want even more.
Sometimes I want too much.
The Man in the Station
Sometimes when you get just a little bit of something it can make you want even more.
Sometimes I want too much.
The Man in the Station
Wednesday, 2 October 2013
We are thieves...
We are thieves
Like naughty children in the corner store I will pilfer
an hour, maybe two – let it fall into my pocket unseen.
At home the stolen time tumbles out of my pocket
along with your naked form.
Pale arms and legs
stomach, bum and breasts rolling on the sheets
and your face turned up to me for a stolen kiss
This burgled treasure
secret and shared in a dark room
of early morning quiet
and here on this bed of love lust and longing
we steal from each other and give to each other
until fully consumed, split open like a pomegranate, red juices running down our chins
all our secrets and souls exposed
until there is nothing left to steal
We will lay here
content and holding onto each other
hoping to hold onto what remains of ourselves
until the first sliver of light on the ceiling
the first shard of the day
here to steal itself back and to push us out
The remaining day my stolen hour my secret
an hour, maybe two – let it fall into my pocket unseen.
At home the stolen time tumbles out of my pocket
along with your naked form.
Pale arms and legs
stomach, bum and breasts rolling on the sheets
and your face turned up to me for a stolen kiss
This burgled treasure
secret and shared in a dark room
of early morning quiet
and here on this bed of love lust and longing
we steal from each other and give to each other
until fully consumed, split open like a pomegranate, red juices running down our chins
all our secrets and souls exposed
until there is nothing left to steal
We will lay here
content and holding onto each other
hoping to hold onto what remains of ourselves
until the first sliver of light on the ceiling
the first shard of the day
here to steal itself back and to push us out
The remaining day my stolen hour my secret
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