Charting a Course

Charts made
From constellations
Took his ship
To the edge of the world
Where he sailed off
Into the night sky

 

Wounded

Break my skin
Or break my bones
Just don’t break my heart
Tis a wound
That will not heal
And I’ll quickly fall apart

 

Snake Skin

Rubbing against you
Like a snake shedding his skin
‘Til my clothes fall off

 

Hike Up Your Skirt

The more your leg I chance to see
The more I feel there seems to be
Some more of you you’ll give to me

 

Reunited

Whenever we meet, our lips they will greet
Our hearts, carried aloft by our feet
Given away by our skin’s radiant heat
Your melting’s a treat; each time that we meet

 

Orgy in the Sky

As the sun sighs its goodnight,
His hot breath pours across my skin
The stars above peek through twilight
Like a veil of sheer curtains
And the moon washes my body
With her knowing, loving gaze

 

Birch Tree

Sorry “the ladies.”

Sorry that the skin on my legs and feet is peeling off in sheets like the bark from a fucking birch tree. I got this sun burn for you. Workin’ my moves out on the beach. Salty sea air blowin’ my hairs like I’m that hunky guy on the cover of the romance novel. But the hair in which I speak are on my six-foot-three legs – not the guy-orgeous curls that fall from my skull.

Don’t worry “the ladies,” you didn’t want none of this anyways.

*I really don’t talk like an idiot. Most of the time. I swear.

 

Her Touch, A Monsoon

Her skin was like water
Smooth and cool
And she moved like a cloud
Sometimes dark
Often times light and billowing

He was like the Serengeti
Hot, rough and wild
Deliberate and dedicated
Curator of the great circle
Begging for the monsoon

 

Juliet

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?”
“It is the east…”

Oh, how the sun warms my heart as it kisses my naked skin

“Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon”

Slowly I rise to meet thee…
And with my spear, the moon impale

“Who is already sick and pale with grief”

Glistening from feverish sweat,
Body wracked with want; gasping

“That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.”

Visions of thee met with eruptive white of day

 

Within

Sweet skin you want to be within
And rough or gently pet
Sweet skin you want to be within
And work to being wet
Sweet skin you want to be within
But know you’ll never get