I want you to plunge into the messy chaos
of my sheets, buried in your own breath,
clawing your way out with my name on
your lips. I want to burn in the oppressive
heat of your body, your fingers knotted into
my hair like I am knotted around your waist.
I want you unzipped in front of me, peeling
away every layer of every other girl you’ve
ever been with, until only my fingerprints
litter your skin. I want you unraveling at
the edges and melting into my palms.
For #juneinspiration hosted by the lovely @alura_inspires and I.
For #sizzlingsummersins, hosted by the fiercely, feisty, passionate, crazy and lovable Daughters of Nin:
Paint your most hidden
desires on my skin, over
over every inch of the
Jackson Pollock mess
the last guy left.
I want to be the sort of scripture that
you are not afraid to call Good News.
I’d like to be the verses that
sink through your blood stream
and anchor themselves to your pulses
when you are unsure of this world.
I don’t want you to worship the
frayed binding of my spine, but
I want to be the reason you believe
in something bigger than the parables
etched in my skin like hymns.
The background music is the intro of the song 🎶 Hamari Adhuri Kahani 💔
Background artwork from the amazing gallery of @tanyashatseva, no copyright infringement intended
Let my pale, skin be the paper, let your
hands be the pen, engrave sins on my
body like it was made for your fingertips.
Continue reading “Sin”
The first time I stood before
him bare and naked, I was soft
gooseflesh and self-conscious,
yet overridden with desire. As
if I was just a girl, learning
how to be a woman.
Continue reading “Bare”
Why do we always long for
the things that would lead us
to complete destruction?
The way I am craving for you.
My skin misses the messy scrawl
of your touch. My muscles ache
with need. I want to feel you in
the mornings and taste you in
the night, my soul years for
yours. I am craving for you.
Day 24, #naughtynovembernoir, hosted by @elle12368, @bluelotus.kamikazeheart, @__got2haveit, @wild.cherry69xo and moi
Imagine if one would
leave a mark on every
single thing they touch,
my skin would be pristine,
but my heart.. my heart would be
covered with your fingerprints.
There are no commas in the way we make love.
We are not written into each other’s bodies
in a way where there is any space Continue reading “Unstrung”
Day 7, for my life in #7daysofblackandwhite, no people, no explanation.