Again, alone awake accidental?
Barely by blunt bricks, brain curtains…
Cut crooked carefully….
Draped dangerously during dusk….
Every emotion enhanced from finger, face & freckle….
Gingerly groping gestures growing gracefully….
Hesitant hands hold hearts hastily….
I imagine important….
Jitters, jetting, jumping….
Knocking knees knowing….
Lucid, lustful longing lips….
Makes more magic memories….
Nocturnal nights necessity never neglects….
Open obsessions of our objectives….
Prevail pleasure pure puzzle piece poison….
Quiet questions quench quarries….
Random, rare, rational realities….
Suggestions so stimulating senses savoring sex, smooth skin….
Timeless tales, the tantric touch….
Ultimately unclothed unknown & unavoidable….
Valuable venom varies vindictively…,
We wait within wind whirls, wondering….
Xenophilia in Xanadu xeroxing….
Your youthful years yearning….
Zestful, zany& zone free….
Trantric lovers are intertwined and connected like a puzzle piece. So much in love that the world stops to envy their kisses.
I am wide awake wishing you would get off work early to ravage me the way you did last night. I starting this page as a running letter to you. This will be my darkest thoughts, my deepest fears and,of course my delusional sexual wants. As we grow closer together and I get back on track of my writing and dreaming that one day I will be something to someone.
I want you to know that this blog like many other blogs and websites in the past is a calibration of my life’s writing. It has years of Myself all wrapped up into a small ball of internet links. So lover, please understand each piece you read is not about you. You are my king, my blindsided Valentine, my night owl poison, my mind funk jinx and so much more that only my sick mind could describe.
Originally wide awake alone I would write, so I want you to know you are my love. This is my passion. Hopefully one day I will have my thoughts, dreams, intentions, aspirations and goals somewhat together but until then I still remain your insomniac woman forever in love.
I’d never sleep if it meant writing about you.
11/30/2014
Why do I feel like I’m trying so hard to progress, but I don’t feel happier?!
I want to make a life next to you, suitable for children. I started going back to school to advance my chances of landing my dream job. This is for both of us and our growing family. I know I try to calm you.
You say you are on the way home and that’s okay. I guess I’m just worried about you. You can’t seem to resist temptations of the euphoria of what every substance has to offer.
You hardly say “no”
A Friday Night at 6:24PM you left the house in a hurry forgetting your cigarettes on the table beside the door. Scurrying around as if your mind was already somewhere else. You can’t resist the temptations as they swirl into your life every Friday evening.
They haunt you the lasting hours of your work week. You count each minute until it hits 6:00PM.
Which means you have 52 hours of freedom. You report back to your greasy hole that you bust your knuckles at on Monday, so you naturally begin.
The texting charades of lining up your poison. Finding someone to fill your urge.
…………………………………..You crave the euphoria of whatever substance you choose to indulge in. You have no consistent indulgent, nor do you have a preference and in my opinion you would eat the liver of a dead rat if I told you that you would hallucinate………………………………………………………….
So my assumption of your brisk departure could only be because of your sense of urgency.
