

thumbing through . . .i want to run my finger along (beneath) your skin. come to learn the surface from what i find within. to the warm and slick and glisten, with fresh-bared endings listen. corporeal arc, holding vital spark.thumbing through . . .
what shall captivate when your book is opened to me?


black rosesdeep-seated psychosis?black roses
things buried so deep they melt in the light: melt and run deeper so they may coagulate again. things so poisonous they never kill, but keep destroying. things so aberrant they feed on themselves to survive and prosper. anger. hatred. fear. submissiveness.
a rose by any other name. . .


heheheopen mouth, tongue laid forth. the sacrament awaited and revered.hehehe
the sudden, blinding impact from below the jaw. the severed tip gone floor-bound and the font born forth from the perplexed and horrified devotee.
the clergy intones, "next . . ."


rrrrmmmmto recall the way the senses work in symphony . . . a multidimensional, multifacetedrrrrmmmm
phantasmagoric picture of the of the object.
the sound of capillaries dilating
the smell of adrenaline beneath the skin the taste of anticipation the feel of chi in motion the sight of resignation to a fate


BurningBurning. My mouth is dry, my hands are clammy, the sheets are unbearable, throw them off, let the night air lick my body with tongues of flames.Burning
My skin is too hot - tear it off me, tear it away, make the burning stop.
Rip out my heart, warm, red, beating, drink my hot blood, make the burning stop.
Burning deep down, demand me, command me, devour me, split me, break and enter, tear me, rape me, make the burning stop.


CrushI have a crush on youCrush
your mouth as fresh as crushed ice delectable as crushed strawberries sharp as crushed glass soft as crushed velvet fragrant as crushed roses
So, crush


Rose-Colored Love PoemI bought some dark pink legal pads (I tire of yellow and white); I hoped for inspiration to move me to pen some great romantic poetry, but it was nothing but tinted paper.Rose-Colored Love Poem
Then I thought of you.
And it transformed into pink satin sheets in my hands, smooth and clean, cool crisp lines throbbing with love colors, begging my attentions, existing only to await my pleasure.
--
Hello world! I love you.
--
post-script
mere words can
transcend meaning
(what you think, and write, and say).
haiku becomes
a mantra becomes
the pattern for your day.
-praytell
--
post-script
mere words can
transcend meaning
(what you think, and write, and say).
haiku becomes
a mantra becomes
the pattern for your day.
-praytell
--
post-script
mere words can
transcend meaning
(what you think, and write, and say).
haiku becomes
a mantra becomes
the pattern for your day.
-praytell
--
Thanks to drugs, I can hear colors again...
--
post-script
mere words can
transcend meaning
(what you think, and write, and say).
haiku becomes
a mantra becomes
the pattern for your day.
-praytell
--
Kristina Parsons
[link]
Member of : iconThe-Yard-Collective :
Club Photography
[link]
--
post-script
mere words can
transcend meaning
(what you think, and write, and say).
haiku becomes
a mantra becomes
the pattern for your day.
-praytell
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