Secret

Windows to the soul are eyes.
You reach inside and shake up the soul within. Looking through your hair. Intensely gazing.
With you; enveloped in darkness, twinkling city; smiling lights
Breathe in your smell; kiss you in the moonlight.
Electricity when you touch, tiny impulses drum every inch of skin.
Your skin on mine. My being touching yours.
Falling down the rabbit hole. Stumbling speak.

Crashing waves; breezy and blue; your face; a painted memory.
Face up to the sun, spin around and around around like that dream that never faded.
No sense of time. Hours flash by in minutes, causing dizziness.
Your head in my lap. My fingers in your hair.
Floating, dreamlike, with soft edges and vivid colours.
Flashes of passion; your heat courses through my veins like an addiction,
Feel fluttery, heart beats fast, insides warm.

I ask how? You say it's your secret.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Silence

Image
All my life I have been forced to be silent. Staying silent starting at age five as my body was used for the sexual pleasure of a grown man. He was my own father. He told me that if I ever told anyone then my mum would go away and never come back and that he would go away and never come back and that I would be left all alone and that it would be my fault. Terrified, I kept quiet. I was responsible to keep the family together, he told me. He said that all fathers have to teach their daughters how to be good wives when they grow up otherwise they would never find husbands to love them and stay with them, but nobody talked about it because it was a secret. A five-year-old listens to whatever their parents tell them, because their parents are God at that age. And so the years passed. A little girl, constantly being silenced into submission and secrecy, so that he could keep using me for his pleasure. Over the next year, I believed everything he said.   I didn’t know anything else. Until
Read more

Photos from my favourite City

Image
Montmartre Flowers A French Bloody Mary? An afternoon in Montmartre Summer in Paris French balcony railing Flowers in Paris And if you let yourself be surprised? The hood Moulin Rouge Deserted Strumming strings near the Louvre A summer day in Montmartre Graffiti near Richard Lenoir metro station Where to this afternoon? Passing by a church near Hotel De Ville Haussmann Architecture A photographer...and a marriage Walking towards the river Shopfront in Montmartre Montmartre Time for a glass of Rose Bikes in Montmartre Le Metro! Japanese restaurant on Rue De La Roquette Cafe near Notre Dame
Read more

Sadness is...not going to Burning Man

Image
And so it is, with great sadness that I realized some time ago that I will not make it to Black Rock Desert this year for Burning Man . Needless to say, I am extremely depressed, and have been for about a month, when the friend that was saving me a ticket, broke up with his girlfriend of eight years and informed me that the extra ticket apparently got lost in the break up. I have had a particularly hard summer financially and was already contemplating the very real possibility that I wouldn't make it this year, followed shortly thereafter by the announcement that, for the first time in Burning Man's 25 year history, tickets had sold out, and that the amount of people allowed had reached capacity.
Read more