He uses me as his canvas of expression,
his velvet brush dripping with the ink of desire.
The inkwell is endless, and it flows with passion.
Graceful words are emblazoned upon flesh like fire.
...
Pretty little bluebird in the tree,
won't you come and sing for me?
Your blue wings bristle as you fly away.
I wish I could come out to play.
...
Who do you think is watching from the halls of heaven above?
Is it a God or a Goddess? One who thrives on fear or love?
Is there really a Creator or did we all come to be,
secrets of evolution - the you of you, the me of me?
...
You
left me
long ago,
kissed me goodbye
...
My tears... drew
the well of my soul, to cry
a virulent verdigris.
The blue... flew
...
The ocean is a woman turned to the skies,
spilling her thoughts along a shoreline of sand.
You will never know what hides behind her eyes
by skimming the surface and reaching dry land.
...
Seagulls circling the clear sky.
Naked bodies blanket the beach.
Slickened skin to entrance the eye,
as dreams deliquesce out of reach.
...
To embrace love in every fashion
is to not feel shame when one feels passion.
Love is the greatest gift ever God sent -
gentle, soft-hearted, and beneficent.
...
People see what they want to see,
but they don’t live inside of me.
They don’t know the hurts and the lies
that cloud the oceans of my eyes.
...