Taboo

I sip coffee
on a bench

under a tree
waiting

for the onset
of rain

keeping
my body

as still
as when

I kneel
for you

the sky
darkens

clouds
about

to burst
I let

myself go
turn my face

toward
the deluge

allow myself
to be

thoroughly
drenched

poem

mutiny

mothwatson:

you

r balls roll

ing on my pal

m and try

ing to hid

e just be

fore i fin

ish a

re remind

ing me of cap

tain queeg who

s way be

fore you

r time.

passion and gravity

mothwatson:

there

s an id

eal if some

times unpopular a

ge where pass

ion an

d gravity work to

gether hand i

n hand so a

s my own hand

s rise up you

r thighs you

r be

autiful ass come

s to meet the

m an

d you fit just right.

I am cutting a rose
into fragments of rose

so the scent of the rose
clings to my fingers

i scatter bits of red
in places where

I have sought the
rose in order to fill

the hollows that
needed the rose

my heart aches have
you ever felt such need

it causes me to wander
in the heat my face aglow

with the sheen of need as i
dwell in the humid air

I lie down to feel the sun-
scorched grass on my body

the land & I are parched
I have never felt so holy

[from St. Ursula’s Commonplace Book - AE]

poem rose