Escapism

Veteran

Black and White

Standoff

Tigris

Pride of Africa

Spotted

Mother & Cub

An invisible hand reaches into my core. Wrenching on my heart strings as if to pull me towards her across ranges and rivers and seas. My heart and hers two opposite poles of the same magnet shattered and torn apart by distance. Her voice rings out in the words written in her own hand But they are but a drop of water for this parched heart.

A small collection of possibly some of my best works recently published in The Bubble Magazine

I want to itch  with the weight of you sink underneath your bones  heavy with the treasure of your skin  sinking to the bottom of your ocean  drowning in all the pieces of your form I want I want oh, how I want you. 

The First is a warning shot. A brush against her cheek towards the vulnerable, exposed portion of her neck. She moves to counter and the battle begins. It is carnage. A flurry of attacks - Blitzkrieg. I rethink my strategy, A tactical retreat. As she moves to rout the trap is sprung. A precision strike to the neck. She replies. Carpet bombing my chest. Drawing me closer, As the tips of my fingers move to her nape preparing for a fresh skirmish. Our defenses shattered, We resort to trench warfare. Sporadic assaults across The no-man's-land between our lips Here we lie. In the throes of passion. Breathless. Without a victor. Contending with the fluttering of butterflies. 

Her beauty consumed me in an instant Intoxicated my vision Intuition’s breath leaning on the motions We kiss. Planting kisses on cherried lips glowing with the embers of fire. I revel in this garment of kisses, succumbing to the will of the Night.