I Dream of You

I dream of you
coming home to me.
Tired but seeking
solace in my skin.
Feel firm hands
seek my curves.
Explore why I am
the feminine.
You the masculine.
Your scruffy chin
scrapes my neck.
I hear you inhale
my perfume.
Without hello I turn.
Nothing else matters.
The day past disappears.



Stars in their jars

I crave you

the way people crave

the clouds in their mouth

and stars in their


and waves in their


and hope in their




The balance shifted

“Everything about him enveloped her, made her crave exactly this. His possession. In her mind something relaxed; the balance shifted. She welcomed every way he could touch her, the heat from his body, the atoms of his breath. Everything.” 

― Cari Silverwood,
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Body of a Woman

Here you are, still
Reposed behind glass
Like a work of art. Yes,
Body of precious aloneness,
There are times I desire you
In a lover’s arms. Sometimes
I want you making fierce love,
With moans like thought bubbles
Of pleasure forever in Pompeii’s
Lava & ash. Yet, other nights,
As Miles Davis plays ballads
In the background, like tonight,
There’s only irony: I see
You’re gazing out toward
The House of the Faun,
Waiting for someone.

Yusef Komunyakaa 

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Drink the sea

Making love with you is like drinking sea water. The more I drink the thirstier I become, until nothing can shake my thirst but to drink the entire sea.   ~Kenneth Rexroth

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” I give myself to you: My hunger, yours; my body, yours to consume; my lips, my mouth, my teeth, yours to put where you want them; my hair, my flesh, yours to cut, to tie, to pull, to enter; my every thought, yours to turn into words, yours to ink on your skin; yours… the length of me is yours to do with as you please.”


too close to her

But she knows she has curse on her
A curse she cannot win.
For if someone gets
Too close to her,

The pins stick farther in.

Tim Burton in The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy & Other Stories, 1997

Liquid measure

I crave your mouth,

your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving,

I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me,

dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure

of your


Pablo Neruda
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