Aug 21, 2020
for every field needing rain there is a house with a leaking roof the early worm is only eaten what is not metaphor is the way of the word
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for every field needing rain there is a house with a leaking roof the early worm is only eaten what is not metaphor is the way of the word
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Universal Love:
The mist from the waterfall surrounds us.
Our unwavering love sees each other through the mist.
Through the confusion, devastation and miscommunication.
I cannot believe what you have started.
Our relationship is a bit dangerous and full of secrets.
Wait and deciding how to make my move.
Your body is so scandalous.
Losing control of my hold, on the edge.
As I now, plunge deep into the deepest side of our love.
All I know is that I cannot stay above.
“Qual a maior lição que uma mulher deveria aprender? Desde o primeiro dia, que ela já tem tudo o que precisa dentro de si. É o mundo que a convenceu que ela não tinha”,
Rupi Kaur
night
cooling breath of lilac clouds,
whisper the daily repreieve of,
heat draining, paling skies,
blanketing velvet, over tired eyes
dark pavement simmers in
warm sweeps of streetlight
tired dove wing eyelids shut
as weary minds take flight
Grab a copy of my book here: https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Redfordbook
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Rustic Veins
Situational friction, pale imitations. Button fell out of the drying machine, not belonging to anything. So it goes, a lustful sobbing. Dogs in cellars slobbering. Cats in heat, the dead of winter, a bathroom sink. When I went to hell...that was then, this is now. Backing off the sloth, comedic and confrontational.
Shriveled prune man, always fresh, never frozen. Never constipated, running yet again. Took much time, too much exercise. If lips go raw, use some balm. No need to turn everything romantic.
Sensual fury, so much for suffering. Just a retreat from the bittersweet. However much your friend talks of such and such it doesn't make any of it true, only turns you blue. Losing oxygen, winning the lottery of men. Never have I ever said it had to be like that, but I look ahead. All the same, Jimmy sang purple haze.
Stuck in who I am, here we go again. Blink and you miss it, someone's back on their bullshit. Won't name names, but you-know-who's up in flames. Yet again, we could have stopped it. Just keep calm and douse the lawn.
Y tú que vas, y la poesía que llega a romperme hasta las vértebras con sus letras, a desangrarme con sus manitas cruzando los deditos para que vuelva a tocar el folio, a romperme hasta las clavículas, tú que te vas, y la poesía que llega a susurrarme que no corra, que ella no me dejará sola, que ahí está la máquina de escribir, deseando que la toque, que la manosee, que le saque gemidos, a cambio me promete que el presente dejará de doler. Su risa, me hizo temblar el corazón, y soy presa de un amor excesivo, di hasta mi última costilla, a cambio de polvo, y sangre, mucha sangre… Se supone que no debería escribirte más, ni quererte como te quiero, a lo salvaje, a lo brutalmente caótico, aunque sea a contra luz, bonito; Tengo doscientos seis huesos, y no he aprendido a mantenerme de pie cuando el dolor se aparece y me sonríe algo gracioso, hasta guapo se ve, pero ya no tengo a que aferrarme, y me he dicho a mí misma, que arda el mundo si es posible, pero a mí no me querrán a silencios, no más, ahora soy la primera en botar el orgullo por la borda y hacerte señas de que vengas a quererme un poquito. Otra vez, me han querido de la peor manera posible, a silencios, y no ven que soy una bestia llena de sangre y garras por querer hasta lo inevitable, hasta hacer gemir a los perjuicios, masturbar cada grieta, cada punto y seguido, cada coma, mírame soy más caos que mujer soy más llamas y sangre que mujer. Solo faltaban pocas piezas para el puzle, y lo has roto todo, y sigo soñando contigo, sé que no te lo preguntas, pero te sueño, como balazos a quemarropa, verte sonreír, era tener un motivo más para levantarse del suelo, y finalmente verte de frente, y robarte suspiros. Te estas llevando cosas que no te pertenecen, mis lágrimas, mi insomnio, y es que ya lo llamo por tu nombre, hasta el mismo insomnio rasga sus vestiduras al verme tan taciturna, y tan falta de amor, que yo misma acaricio mis grietas, y me prometí, que no abriría una herida más, y aquí me tienes. Sangrando por la arteria.
Quiero hacer gemir tus perjuicios. -Isabella Sunset
Lost in Space
I want to travel in space, to be gone without a trace. The numbing silence in the spaceship, forgetting all about my shortcomings. Humming away, like a drummer boy. A secret stash of playboys, each of them my toys. Looking at each and every star, speeding past like them as if I was in a slow driving car. You wouldn't be able to send me a message, having to keep guessing as to my whereabouts. As a kid, I hated Brussels sprouts. I want to take a different route, and fight this bout alone. I want to own up to my choices, and throw the first stone into the lake of life.