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love the wild in mebefore there is no stillness left and I can no longer be caught slowly becomingmore of thisand less of thatand I am so unsureif a love existsthat cravesthe riverin spite of the current the palominothat wants to roamthe wildfloweramongst the weedsand the mountaindespite the stone the blood& the bones
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In the morning he wakes me.. The familiar feeling and heat of his touch my own personal alarm clock. His hands rough from years of working. I love the contrast of their grooves against my softness and the way that I always know it’s him when they are on me. I did not feel him
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won’t you let me be your medicine?
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i loved the wayhe left his love with melittle remindersdug into my skinthat would soonsit atop a backdropof purple and golda way to staythroughout the dayuntil he could create arton my body again the blood& the bones
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And then it was time to say goodbye. The last hug was tight and long. All our hugs were like this. I felt each time like you did not want to let me go and that there were words transferring through our touching skin that our mouths could not say. Or at least I wanted
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Just as Aphrodite loved Ares And Psyche succumbed and longed for Eros And Persephone made a way to stay with Hades And for the way the light reaches for the dark but never tries to claim it or change it or even always demand to understand it only to offer illumination when it is needed
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it is my intention to tease youuntil you gofrom Jekyll to Hydefrom gentleman to beastand I know that you want meto be goodbut this is good to me the blood& the bones
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maybe I am just waiting for youto write me back into your storyto tell me where this goesand for how longfor I am no good at guessingwhere I am wantedand where I am notbelieving alwaysthat I am better suitedfor short storiesthan I am of novels the blood& the bones
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“He is a weapon, a killer and do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.” I read this in a book today. It was very profound to me as I have often loved the spear and expected it to become something else as
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He had no problem expressing his want for me with words. Like a primal poet who had finally found his muse and could not write or say the words fast enough. He made me feel beautiful, the way he craved me and the way he wasn’t afraid to say it. But I mostly preferred when
The Blood & The Bones 