Sexy Mona, with hair like silk so fine,
In nun’s habit, hiding behind cult veil,
Till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers divine,
Shall enter [my] fingers of smooth mastery with ebony trail.

With every touch, I die a little death,
Moaning in pleasure, my senses ablaze,
The culmination of ecstasy, I draw my breath,
A little death called orgasm, in a euphoric haze.

So let the pleasure flow through every vein,
And passion consume me like a burning fire,
For in these moments, I am free of all pain,
And all that’s left is the purest desire.

Oh, Sexy Mona, with hair so fine,
You take me to heights, where only pleasure aligns.

:: 02.23.2023 ::

The word “never” stretches out,
Can your meager syntax nourish
the hungriest souls of tomorrow?
They are centuries older than the zeroed
heart of the warmest blood —

   not a   dro
              p

Aimé, say hello:
to love your Césaire-ish
prose is to BREATHE outside
this sinful flesh decaying as
I write. Weeping for sorrow.
Weeping for love. To never hide
my sun, to grow a seed of Life.
My love!

:: 12.15.2019 ::

Beneath the searing sun’s piercing light,
I am lost in a haze of summer’s might.
The heat and sweat cling to my skin,
Driving me to seek the shade within.

The world around me moves in slow motion,
As I relish in this idleness and emotion.
Birds sing and leaves rustle with the breeze,
As the warmth brings a much-needed ease.

The days are endless, stretching far and wide,
A timeless journey on a summer’s tide.
The world is vibrant, bursting with hues,
Infusing my being with a sense of renewed views.

I may not have a summer’s name to call my own,
But in this fleeting moment, I am not alone.
A pause in life, a moment of pure bliss,
As I bask in the warmth of summer’s kiss.

::P 02/23/2023 P::