With copper around my ankles. . .

With copper around my ankles,

a dead mouse in the corner that I cried over earlier

and phone calls from people telling me I need to pay up

Still, just in the back of my mind

‘Cause my body would really just like to be touched

Breasts uncovered, caressing myself

Easily feeling your hands again

Soon my flesh tells me all clothes should come off

So it can bask in itself, uncovered

Take down the curtains

Let the sunlight penetrate my soft skin

illuminating that glow that is, was always there

                       

Sweet slickness in one hand

And a pen in the other

Thankful my body prefers the right hand

Because how would I write?

The way my body feels when you’re around

The way my body looks when you’re around

I’ve used the same description you did

Have I liked it?  I’ve tried

But with you, it’s true

As greath a length of celibacy as I could endure. . .

As great a length of celibacy as I could endure

Could not make me forget the feeling of a penis inside me

Conjured up at any time

As if no time had passed at all

Even when I wish those memories, those sensations would disintegrate

As if time passing would allow new experience, new point of view

Allow me to shed all that was

I still cling to my chosen fate until I no longer know why nor what I was ever searching for

Rather, in my obstinacy, I live that moment in exclusion

All those moments where I wanted something different

I hold onto simultaneously

Waiting for that perfect opportunity

To change my rigid internal state holding me captive

All that frustration, anger, need, disappointment, disgust

Swirling in my vision

Longing for someone to come along and force me out of it

Because if I asked, they never would oblige,

Except with obligation. . . annoyance

Just love me

All of me, no matter what

Please don’t press me

To be what you think you need

To fulfill your own eternally heartbreaking secret agendas

Come out of all that

To be with me

(All of me, the real me, any me that I be)

Without judgment, reasoning

All your whys, hows

Defining why I be when you can’t possibly ever work that out to fit me

Or to fit your own rigid internal state

Of which you fight for the rightness

To the exclusion of all else that chooses to exist whether or not you see it

Just love me

Every part of me, no matter what

As much as you know how

And I’ll do the same for you

Currently untitled -- previous title. . . well, things change. : (

Come take a walk with me to the creek

Where the sound of it bubbling behind us

washes away

things we never even knew existed

Let all of those edges of yourself dissolve

Till we merge into one another

And everything

Come count the ladybugs with me

That adorn this tree that gifts us life and breath

Their subtle red mixing with the tender buds

that promise new life

Experience this other realm that exists everywhere,

And everywhere our mind doesn’t

Come take a walk with me to the falls

Where its cold infused us with aliveness

And the sunlight allows us the remembrance of light embodied

Let all those edges of yourself dissolve

Till the caresses of breeze, sun, water, rock, hands

Are all the same

Unlocking more of you

Into the bliss of being

Eyes -- Unfinished

Eternally boyish or painfully macho?

How about a delicious mix of the two

That makes your heart ache and your sex ache

Dying to be consumed by your eyes

Those gray flames that could burn me up

Burn down my walls, burn my skin

That would just keep burning my identity over and over like a phoenix that never rises

I'm sorry (this may be changed too -- in the last 3 months, there's a WHOLE lot more I'm sorry for)

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for being such a stupid girl.

I’m sorry for wanting you so much, liking you so much, loving you so much.

I’m sorry for wishing we could have more.

I’m sorry for misinterpreting what you said into a possibility instead of the other way around.

I’m sorry you love her so much.

I’m sorry I hate it.

I’m sorry I don’t like to be around you guys.

I’m sorry that I want to leave as soon as she walks into the room.

I’m sorry for being impatient.

I’m sorry for waiting.

I’m sorry for being a stupid stupid girl who, according to you, gets too upset over things that don’t mean anything.

I’m sorry my feelings aren’t valid enough for you.

I’m sorry you mean so much more to me than I to you.

I’m sorry I can’t mean enough to you to even make the effort to spend time with me.

I’m sorry it would be such an effort.

I’m sorry that you don’t want to just come be with me, that you want to put it off until you can get drunk.

I’m sorry I get so blindingly excited about all of your empty promises.

And so much more sorry that I continue to believe you when you speak them.

What a stupid girl.

I’m sorry for telling you how much I want you.

I’m sorry for asking you to touch me.

I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done that have made your relationship more difficult.

I’m sorry you have one girlfriend and have to deal with shit from two.

I’m sorry I don’t want to let you go.

I’m really sorry that I probably won’t give up.

I’m sorry I’m too depressed to be the girl you fell for.

I’m sorry there’s no happiness radiating from anywhere right now, me or anyone else.

I’m sorry everyone’s operating from heavy obligation bullshit instead of asking for what they want/need. 

You’re both dumbasses.

I’m sorry that even if you wanted to be with me, we wouldn’t be able to get it right.

We’d want different things.

I’m sorry I wouldn’t want to do all the things you’d want to do together.

I’m sorry I wouldn’t be able to be the girlfriend you’d want.

I’m sorry we’re not as compatible as you and her.

I’m sorry I’m so inexperienced.

I’m sorry, I doubt I’d be near as fun in bed as her .  .  .

. . . I don’t want to think about that.  That’d hurt.

I’m sorry for resenting her, as if it were her fault I can’t have you.

I’m sorry for the anger, for hating her, for my disgust for her since she’s changed.

I’m sorry for not loving all of her.

I’m sorry for feeling like I’m supposed to.

I’m sorry for resenting her for her passive-aggressive reactions to my feelings.

I’m sorry for feeling like she’s a selfish bitch purposely trying to keep us from being close, as if I could take you from her.

As if I’d want to.  And I’m sorry that the longer this goes on, the more that changes.

Still, I don’t want you exclusively.  I want you fully.

I don’t want to limit you, I want to give you more.

More than you’ve allowed yourself, more than you’ve ever had, more than confining yourself to just one person could ever give you. 

I’m sorry I didn’t realize that you really did mean threesome not foursome until shortly after I said it.   Ouch.

Such a stupid girl.

Muse (short)

Never

Have I had any idea

How intoxicating the softness of a woman’s body could be

How much you could envelop me

Just by letting go

The more you soften, the more I soften

Until I’m blissfully melting into you

Where’d my edges go?

We soften, meld until I don’t know the difference between losing myself and finding myself

You think you need the contrast of overwhelming masculinity to feel feminine?

I think you’re wrong

Because what I know of you is breathtaking

this may be changed later. . .

My nipple aches for your lips, your tongue

Waiting to gift to you

All that I be

All the secrets of the universe

That never were secret

And will be y(ours) once again

. . . If you’re willing

It’s not symbolic

This is real

It exists

          (If you let it)

You could quit

Quit that addiction to the ache of wanting

And just have, instead

Have all of you

Two

You have me on my knees, face upturned, cradled between your hands.  I’m testing out the bonds you’ve tied my arms together in.  No room to even try.

Your hand slides down to grab me by the throat just under my chin.  The look in your eyes and the grin on your face let me know there’s something in store I wasn’t expecting.

Warmth spreads throughout my body as you slide 2 fingers into my mouth, letting me get them wet before shoving them farther to see how much I can take.  The grip on my neck tightens, but I can’t help but moan.

I’m left with an empty mouth as you reach to unbuckle your belt, hastily freeing your cock before lightly rubbing it across my lips . . . over my cheeks, my eyelids.  A sweet mixture of the pleasure of the feel of you and the degradation of your dominance. 

I take you into my mouth and relish the way your hardness feels sliding past my lips, over my tongue.  You make my mouth water.  Eagerly sucking, licking, massaging you, drinking in the taste of you.  Just as I hear your breathing pick up, I gently mouth one ball, then the other, licking from underneath, up and over, all the way back up to play with the head.  Hearing my moans, you take me by the back of the head and thrust your way to the back of my head.  I’m choking and gagging around your cock, not sure if I can take anymore when you pull out, releasing my head.  Wondering why you’re finishing yourself off, I watch as you come into your hand, grab me by the back of my hair and smear your cum all over my face -- an act that has no other purpose than to degrade me. . . and I feel myself getting wetter.

Still holding me by the back of the hair, you make some comment about me being a dirty girl who needs to get cleaned up and drag me to the bathroom, shoving me into the bathtub.  You strip and step in with me, grabbing me by the hair again.  I watch, humiliated, as a warm stream of urine spurts forth and splashes onto my breasts.  My pussy gets wetter.  Looking into your eyes, I see your desire, see you looking through me.  I watch you look at the conflict in me and shudder at your satisfaction of it.  We both notice my breath quicken.  You tell me to rub my clit as you adjust to bombard my face.  In my shock, I’ve taken some into my mouth and I’m spitting, choking once again.

I can’t help but struggle. 

I can’t help but rub. harder. 

The stream stops.  I pause.  You tell me to keep rubbing myself.  Of course, I oblige.  Your fingers begin to wipe your urine off of me, but only to force them into my mouth.  One swipe after another.  The look on my face is vulnerable, adoring.  You adorn my face with kisses, planting a kiss on my lips that just pulls me in.

Your voice is full of sex as you tell me “Goood giiirl.”

One: Part I

You have me tied up, face down.  Legs tied apart, ass raised by a pillow.  My arms are strapped together and my hands, gripping the bars of the headboard, have been taped together. I am blindfolded and gagged with a scarf.

So. Vulnerable.

I hear you walk into the room, my skin tingling, trying to sense where you are, tingling with anticipation.  Your hands lightly, slowly tickle up the back of my legs; the unexpected touch makes me start to writhe.   You trace one hand up my back and I jump as you whisper in my ear:

 “Well, look at you here, all bound and helpless for me. . .” 

Soft, sweet kisses on my neck. 

“I can do anything I want to you and you can’t do anything to stop me.”  Your hand traces a path over my exposed ass and I hear the grin in your voice.  “You just have to lie there and take it.”  

Nervous, resistant moans are muffled by cloth, as I strain my bonds trying so hard to pretend that I don’t want exactly that.

Your hands run up the insides of my legs then and, as you inch closer to my sex, I become acutely aware of how wet I’ve become, already the anticipation making my body respond embarrassingly against my will.  Your fingertips trace the inner crease of my leg before tickling the lips.  My muscles tighten as I feel the lips of my sex pulled apart for you to view those slick innermost petals.  One finger slides into my hole, deliberate, prodding -- then two, exploring each curve inside me.  Your fingers retreat but the relief-ache is short-lived, replaced by a reddening face when instead I feel your thumbs pry me open. 

You chuckle at my growing embarrassment as you move to spread the large globes of my ass, groping and squeezing, me squirming underneath.  You explore the area, far too gently for me to be able to stand it.  Your delicately probing fingers move to spread my wetness over that tight hole, rubbing in circles.  Suddenly your warm, moist tongue is licking long strokes from pussy to ass, covering the whole area. 

There is rustling, then silence as you move away behind me.  I can’t tell what you’re doing. 

I twitch as there is a cold slipperiness on that tight hole, rubbing. . . then invading, moving in and out of me.  Your finger leaves and I feel something else poking at me.  You slide it in and out only half an inch, teasing, before you push, what I now know as a small butt plug, in all the way.  A slap on each cheek makes me contract and my focus on that tight ring increases. 

Your tongue follows its previous path, this time up and over the plug, eventually settling to just lapping between my pussy lips.  Your tongue broadly licks over my clit, down to thrust into my hole, licking in circles.  You lick the space between my clit and my sex, pressing on my pubic bone, and back up, rhythmically pressing into the base of my clit.  I’m starting to moan into the gag as you press your tongue onto my clit, nudging it up and down.  My moans grow louder, more urgent.  Your lip pushes back the hood and I feel you sucking lightly, then stronger.  You lock my hips down, as your tongue flicks rapidly back and forth over my excruciatingly sensitive clit.  Hips struggling to rock against the hold you have on them.  My already muffled moans become strained as fiery pinpricks swell, spreading throughout my pelvis.  As my orgasm overtakes me, your tongue continues its rubbing, not stopping until the twitches subside and my body starts to relax.  Your mouth relaxes, holds, letting me fall into the softness.