Tag Archives: erotica

Till Winter Solstice 2011

Thank you for following this blog. I appreciate your support. This blog will resume Winter Solstice 2011…consider the time between as poetry’s space on the page since:

…it is silence that exposes our fiery hearts to serpentine tongues,

silence that would strip our marrow if not for the pulsing muteness

of flesh kneading flesh, of snakes and stars and moon-shackled seas.

(excerpt from “If Not for Silence” )

The painting is part of a larger watercolor that I’ll post in the future.

Zoe, the main character of my novel-in-progress, continues to photoblog at bonegirlpix.wordpress.com

Supple Wings

Supple Wings (excerpt)

…Sean leaned past me, barely brushing the front of my body as he reached for the corkscrew to my right.

His touch was light, less pressure than one might feel as passengers squeeze past to get off a bus, but it entered like a flame to kindling and ignited a pulse that echoed like invisible sonar mapping shelter, food, mate. Pheromones are tricky. Like light waves they can’t be seen but can burn through a person with the intensity of sun through a magnifying glass. You can’t see it coming, can only beg for mercy if mercy’s what you really want.

For the entire story please go to

http://www.cleansheets.com/fiction/weaver_02.21.07.shtml

or support independent bookstores and get Hot Flashes 2 through www.bookpassage.com

Thank you to the editors of CleanSheets.com and Hot Flashes 2: more sexy little stories and poemsfor publishing this story on line and in print, respectively.

If Not for Silence

If Not for Silence

In their mad Sufi dance words whirl off tongues

loose as hot snakes as we struggle to speak with rudiments—

mostly we quarrel, walk away, but sometimes manage

to weave them like a lovers’ embrace beneath that open-voweled moon,

which vacillates between  the startled suck of air through pursed lips

and a night so long that, shy, she slips beyond the sun’s unerring watch.

Words electrify nerves till air feels like a panther lapping our luminous skin,

but it is silence that exposes our fiery hearts to serpentine tongues,

silence that would strip our marrow if not for the pulsing muteness

of flesh kneading flesh, of snakes and stars and moon-shackled seas.

Thank you to the editors of Hot Flashes 2 for first publishing this poem.

Hot Flashes

Inception

Inception

She asks,

wants him

to be the first.

As if the other

were a ripened peach,

easily bruised,

they time their movements

to the ancient

pulse of

hearts

then

seas.

Sharp tears through

hidden flesh

steal her breath.

They stop,

begin again;

relentless clock counts towards curfew.

Soothed by his hot sweet breath,

she rests in his embrace—

linear time shifts to the relative distance

between innocence and experience;

she arches,

accepts whispers

fingers

lips

as he eases her through

surmountable pain.

Her chrysalis rips,

new life emerges:

the harsh sun

scent of clary sage

wings drying in a warm breeze.

Thank you to the editors of Hot Flashes: sexy little stories and poems for first publishing this poem.

Hot Flashes

Satsuma

satsuma


Satsuma

Crescents of tangerine cool nipples

that purse like lips as

O of navel grips its slice &

taut shiny glans raises its

section to the sun, hot through

blue-green leaves of eucalyptus;

tongue slides between citrus & skin,

belly arcs smooth,

teeth release juice bursting

through this moist cavern,

tongue, lapping in slow pulses,

swallows wet open flames.

Thanks to the editors of HOT FLASHES: sexy little stories and poems for including this poem.

Hot Flashes

Left Coast Writers