The sky is magnificent here this morning. Some bright blue, some sludgy grey and some very threatening purple! Not sure which way the wind is blowing ... but I managed to put my rubbish out just in time for the bin men. Bodes well.

Today's poem was written exactly a year ago.

During a visit to the local Wisley Gardens, my companion was waxing lyrical on all and sundry, and I was wondering where this relationship would lead to. As we passed through the orchid house, we agreed on the beauty of the flowers and debated the pros and cons of cutting them, the merits of presenting a bouquet of flowers to someone you care about, and how flowers - fresh ones, not dried - in the home, can bring it alive.

I forget why now - something to do with the orchids - but he told me how much he admired and missed his brother who lives overseas. A year later, I have yet to meet the brother, although it is on the cards.

I really ought to go back to Wisley. Perhaps I should make time today.

The orchid

At least the days are growing longer
The sun is up before I wake
The afternoon heat is stronger
And my thirst for warmth I can slake

At least the nights are getting shorter
Without your ties to hold me fast
I stand alone, lamb to slaughter
Dying to see you at long last

Tomorrow will dawn as March rolls in
My buds in bloom for all to see
A hothouse plant ripened to sin
Ready for your dead-heading me

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk 

BTW The orchid has been quoted as being the favourite of a number of poeple who read my poetry; it's not my personal favourite - that one can wait until the right moment arises. Meanwhile, tell me which is your favourite; leave a comment? [You no longer have to register; so - for those of you who are new to blogging - it is quite easy and quick.]

This morning something happened - I read something - which upset me. As I think about it, now, a couple of hours later, my hands still shake and I feel sick. It'll pass ... but it has made me realise something. 

The effect on others - any action you take, anything you write, anything you say - can be far worse than you imagine. Someone who you know to be frail may be destroyed; such an attack is unforgivable. Someone who looks invincible to you may crumble, and you might not even realise the damage you have done.

Today's poem was written to express pent up excitement that I felt one day while we were sailing aboard Overlord, a 60ft Bermudan sloop, but it sums up how I feel right now. I think I had better go for a long walk.

Fit to burst 

Fit to burst
To shout out loud
Unbearable 

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

The boundaries between night and day, the sleeping state and being wide-awake, life and death, are blurred lines and that's where fantasy lies, for me.

This poem was written today; and I must thank Jonathan Furness for the new word "e-motion" ...

As sleep slips through

As sleep slips through the crack
That separates my night and day
Fantasies drift in slow
On a gossamer-winged foray
Head down, pillow sifted
Blanketed e-motionless thought
Scattered, lost in the breeze
Of temptation, and battles fought
Rolled over, as always
Two eyes stay closed, two legs spread wide
Your lips, one kiss, transfixed
And such moistness, no touch denied
Nipples now erect, poised
To perfection, passionate sin
I pray that this day ends
As I’d so wished it would begin

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

No, not the play ... one of those wooden things with a metal spring. Call me sqeamish, but when evidence of a mouse is found, it's time to call in a man. He can set the trap, not me.

Which reminded me ...

The trap is sprung

Too late now, the trap is sprung
Too late to stop what you've begun
Too late to put on a brake
To halt the tide of emotion
As it sweeps over you, hun

Too late for your mussed up head
Too late to push him out of bed
Too late to turn back the clock
To return to the status quo
So why not succumb instead?

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

There are times when everyone around you is out of step ... or perhaps you are? Difficult to tell which ...but a solution is to live and let live?

Today's poem was prompted by a photo, another one taken by Karen Hall ... see her Photo Album on this blog. 

Rootless or fancy free? 

What kind of mess do I find myself in?
Broken down and rootless, or fancy free?
Floating, rudderless, a swirl of confusion
Or spinning in the dance of life?

Will you carry me, tide, to a safe beach
Where I can rest in peace
Away from the twisting turmoil
Away from the ties of life?

Or will I twirl onwards and make patterns
Enjoying the freedom of floating?
While all around me seems stuck in its ways
Will I glide past with this broad grin?

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Yesterday, while teaching, I rolled a die and scored 3. I rolled it again and scored 3 again. "How lucky was that?" I asked the class. We agred that, unless the die is weighted, each face can land down with equal probabiltity and so each score is equally likely. I set them a homework to roll a die 50 times and to record the scores; they are to present them to me in a chart of some kind and explain what they discovered. They have to tell me what their experiment proved. I believe in fairness; their experiment should confirm the fairness of their die.

Yesterday, while teaching, I was formally observed. It's not the first time it has happened, but it is the first time in 20 years. In the follow-up appraisal discussion, a form given to me listed my strengths and weaknesses, although they were couched in different terms: 'areas of strength' and 'priorities for development/further action'. It is strange how self-perception can twist the interpretation, put more focus on one thing and fail to take in another. Selective hearing? Or simply weighting of the die?

This morning's poem (which I shall write in a moment!) is about the subtle difference between sharing and giving. Having now written it, I think it's fair to say that it is an observation, one that I want to share. It explores and experiments with the concepts of sharing and giving.

I hope that anyone reading this, who thinks it applies to them, will recognise their own strengths and can then interpret any mention of weaknesses, not as a criticism or complaint, but as an opportunity to identify priorities for development/further action. That way, we move on?

Life’s worth nothing until it’s shared?

You know you can’t take it with you
Your time’s precious till the end
But how should you share your spoils?
Should your give or should you lend?

There is a subtle difference
Between sharing and giving
How tightly tied is your knot?
And how long is the length of string?

Picking up the tab for us both
Involves your paying for me
In that we’re sharing a meal
It’s called generosity

Taking me to a time gone past
Letting me into your world
Sharing your fond memories
Enriches us, and you‘re unfurled

But when you give while holding on
When a contract you discern
You rob me of any chance
To give thanks to you in return

Be it time or money or love
Whatever the wealth untold
Be sure to invest freely
And it will return, double fold

So that each face is possible
When you have a die to roll
Be even handed and just
Do not try to weight with control

Be fair to all and, at the end
When it’s your turn to be judged
Votes will be in your favour
And you’ll thank me for being nudged

Meanwhile, take a chance, and dive in
Come on, let your soul be bared
Embrace today to the full
Life’s worth nothing until it’s shared?

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk  

Fresh off the press, written this morning after an angry exchange with my scales. And yes, it is raining, but I like rain.

Giving up, for lent

It is lent and in just forty days’ time
A slimmer figure I am hoping to boast
While I die-t to seek the ideal shape
I resist cakes, I don’t butter my toast

As I step gingerly on to the scales
The rain is falling on the window pane
A persistent gentle stroke of the glass
The dial slides up to confirm once again

Not a pound, nor even an ounce I’ve lost
Makes no matter how little or how much
I ingest, a heaviness, yes, a lead
Sits on my hips, and it weights for your touch

Today’s scales show it’s a futile attempt
A new plan I hatch! To fuel my fires
Why hunger to be the slim-waisted kind?
A shortsighted man could suit my desires!

A masterplan, is ever there was one
Not wearing specs, wearing nothing at all
Making love to me in a darkened room
In rhythm, yes, to a steady rainfall ...

And so, to celebrate, because I must
Two slices of toast, both buttered and jammed
Oh, and bacon and eggs, sunny side up
I’m no longer starved. My diet? Be damned!

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk  

When I wake up, my mind is at its best. (Sometimes it's at its worst - but only if I have consumed too much the night before. Move on!)

This morning was special. And a poem was forming in my head. I've done this before. On Waking 1 appeared on Blog day 4, and On Waking appeared on Bog day 15. Here is ...

On Waking, 9

I woke and when I turned over
I expected you to be there
Instead, an abandoned pillow
Lay dejected. Now, do I care?

Yes, I wanted to sleep alone
I preferred it to be that way
And yet, this morning, solitude
For my pillow, greeted the day

My dreams were full of challenges
A jigsaw of torment and trust
Mauve hair and one stud, I turned down
And watched as my lust turn to dust

This morning I’ve thought long and hard
I’ve wondered which way I should turn
I’ve weighed up the pros and the cons
Considered the lessons to learn

And now as the sun filters through
My thoughts are struggling to give voice
You are not the man of my dreams
But you are the man of my choice

It’s the softness of love I crave
To feel special, drenched in champagne
Cushioned by marshmallow cuddles
And promised a future again

So hurry along, won’t you, please
Get your house in order for me
Then we can share our tomorrows
Together, harmoniously

The rest of the On Waking series - and other poems are on my website: annerainbow.me.uk  

The concept of time fascinates me ... I have the knack of fitting a lot into no time at all ... as per this morning ...

Today's poem was written ages ago, though it seems like only yesterday; I was waiting for a girlfriend to arrive - and she's always late.

Time  

Time is elastic.
Infinitely stretchable
But may snap.
Jolt you
Back into place .

Like a bottomless bucket
It never fills. Tantalising
Glimpses of reflections of your glowing face
The surface bending sticks abruptly
And supporting the finest threads.

Like a never ending road
It winds out of view
Twists and turns and diminishes
The centre line is clear
But the edges blur and grow indistinct.

It can pass at the speed of light
Gone before you can catch a breath
Or it will dawdle, tapping impatiently
Waiting for the pot to boil
Or the phone to ring.

You might watch it or rely instead
On the sun or the seasons
To temper your pace
To herald a beginning
Or draw life to a close.

But however you look at time
It goes on
And on and on
And will still be there
When you are long gone.

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk  

Today, tonight, I am back on Broadband after 10 days of dial-up. What a difference it makes!

Managing without  

How did we ever cope
Before we had the car?
Now, we can travel yonder
Here and there, near and far
But have we lost sight
Of the joy of walking
Standing still, breathing the air
And taking time to stop and stare?

How did we ever cope
Before links to Broadband?
Slow connections, costly calls
Sending messages across the land
But have we lost sight
Of the need to go off line
To read a book to the bitter end
And to talk, face-to-face to a friend?

How did I ever cope
Before you and I met?
You turned my world around
Inside out and upside down, and yet
I think I lost sight
Of the person I needed to be
Existing in my own space, following my own plan
Managing without a man 

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk  

Taking your time is important. I certainly take mine. And today when I woke up, after about a year of thinking, I found I had reached a decision, an important one which will shape how I live in the years to come.

The first to know  

Forgive my reluctance
In its sure simplicity
I hold tight to my soul
It being precious to me
So while you draw me close
Tarry, and know, I remain free

Don’t confuse quick thinking
With impetuosity
I fast consider all
Taking stock, and do reject
But now, your advances
These I ponder, and might accept.

Resist the temptation
To use generosity
Don’t shower me with gifts
Or think diamonds a must
Not e'en a king's ransom
Will aid you in gaining my trust

Do not add two and two
To guess my complicity
Capitalise to win
This perilous game we play
Yet desist, commit not
Concentrate only on today

Ignore hesitation
It’s not virtuosity
My heart is on offer
It’s yours, and I’ll grant your wish
If you’ll be soft, gentle
Devouring your favourite dish

So, bide your time, breathe deep
Await reciprocity
When I want to get wet
Ready to dip in my toe
It will be with you, love
And you’ll be the first to know 
 
To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk  

It's a rare event - and maybe only a one-off - but I can report that, today, I said 'no' to chocolate. Worth noting in the diary.

Chocolate - a love affair 

I should not but can I resist?
It tastes so good, I can hardly wait.
I can smell just how good it will be
It intoxicates me.
Smooth and silky, to the touch
Sensuous on the tongue
Melting in your mouth
And exploding in your mind like tequila.

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Now that the thrill of Valentine's Day has passed, the chocolates eaten and the flowers beginning to fade, how much romance remains in the air? In my case, a lot. Hope the same goes for you ...

Nothing less

I know you’re planning to win my heart
How can I please her, I hear you think
As you reach deep into your pockets
I can hear your small change chink

You might bring flowers and chocolate
Promise the moon and stars on a plate
But I just want long-term happiness
I’ll settle for nothing less

So hold my hand as we stroll along
Share with me the joys of each new day
Wake me, take me, to your world of dreams
And there, with you, I will stay

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Being part of a family, to me, is important; to feel wanted, appreciated, to fit in. Being apart from your family - well, that's how it works. I grew up and moved away. My kids grew up and moved away. We meet, occasionally, and we get on.

Mum always used to say: you can't choose your family; luckily you can choose your friends. I would like my family to be my friends ...

Today's poem is about a friend who was not part of my family. And is still a friend.

Just a friend 

You know it matters not a jot
If I see you ever again, or not.
Whether our paths cross, our eyes meet
Fingers touch and toes beneath silken sheet
Rub gently and upwards glide
Till we find what we both hide
And yet, it’d be such a shame
Not to enjoy more of the same.

So, make an effort, your diary clear
Arrange to be around me, and be near
Pass the time of day for all to see
And we can sneak away, together be
Stolen moments, the precious few
Cement this relationship, make it anew
And then, when it is really over, at an end
Remember me as I will you, just a friend. 

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Knowing whether someone is telling the truth is a judgement call. You have to base your decision on a variety of sources of information: what other people have to say and what anyone involved in the situation does. If somebody deliberately plants misinformation, it can become confusing!

Which brings me to today's poem:

Truth is … just is 

An undeniable fact to ride
Sliding under a duvet of lies
It may be hidden, or swept aside
But truth survives, it never dies

It might ooze through my fingers
Or slither across my hips
While the smile in your eyes lingers
And the set of your lips
Tongue wide, may thrust its way past
Diving deeper within
Burying its head at last
Cloaked in original sin

It’s a joy to be held close
As your energy drains
As you moan and whimper my name
But as passion ebbs, the truth remains
Blown away, this smothered flame
The truth, is … just is
I’m not yours, I’m not his
I'm simply, insatiably, free 
 
To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

A while back, a container ship went aground near here. The remains of its cargo are washing up on the shore and locals scour the beach for finds. They celebrate their good fortune. But yesterday, one man lost his life; his boat sank, it is thought, its keel having been hit by debris and ripped off.

It is still dark and I can hear only the gentle sounds of snoring from the next room while I work at my laptop.  Soon the sun will be up, and I will be able to gauge what the day will bring. We plan to go for a walk across the cliffs and feast our eyes on the horizon. It won't be a day to be out in a boat and I am not in the mood for beachcoming.

This poem was written while at sea, surrounded by water - prompted by a photo taken by Karen Hall.

Surrounded by water  

The sun glints on the strata of life
While the scouring foam of emotion
Smoothes away yet more layers
Scaring forever this rock called home.

The exposure to this relentless weathering
Softens the edges, and deadens the pain
It indelibly marks the surface for all to see
And puckers its lips across the sand.

The tide seems soft and subtle. It ebbs and flows.
So, why not walk through the swirling shallows
Cool your ankles and scoop sand between your toes
And let the waters of time etch away at your mind. 

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

There are lots of things I am good at .. and I tend to major on those. So, the general impression is favorable. But there are things I am lousy at .. and one of them is saying goodbye. I seem to be going through a series of them at the moment, and not enjoying the experience at all. Very unsettling!

Today's poem was written after a particularly difficult goodbye.

Saying goodbye

Not easy. Never really expected it to be.
Talked myself into a positive frame
Held together with a determined stare
But then you hugged me and I could not respond
It just opened up the gates
And my tears flowed uncontrollably downwind

I want to be with you, still. To breathe your air
But I need to get back to the holding pattern
One day, maybe, you’ll say ‘You’re mine’
Till then, life goes on and I’m making the best of it
But it’s only a half-hearted attempt
The other half being all yours.

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

I've heard today that I am to be one of 24 writers who will contribute a story for a book to be sold in aid of Cancer Research UK (CRUK). Each story will be set at different times of the day, and my allocated slot is midnight to 1am. I immediately thought of Cinderella - and that determined today's poem.

Cinderella 

Expending time, the days and the hours
So busy. Busy earning. Churning
out words. Casting spells.
Knitting patterns of ideas
Lighting candles to brighten the night
And relying on stars to shine oh so bright.
Listening to others. Opening their doors
No time for judgement. No time for chores.

No time at all
But, Cinderella, you shall go to the ball
The slipper will fit and he’ll take your hand
Your prince, princess. A handful of sand
Trickles through limp fingers, dying fast.
Hold on, hold fast.
If you can last just one more night
Tomorrow’s sunrise will lift this weight
from your eyes. You’ll share a lifetime ahead.
And be a long time dead.

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Being away from an Internet connection for more than 24 hours and I start to twitch!

And then isolation calls 

Sometimes, all that’s needed is a hug
To rest my head, to feel close to a man
Wanted and needed. Acceptable. Desired.
There is no need for commitment
Or permanence. Just here, now, fun.

Sometimes, I need so much more
To salvage this loss. A meeting of minds
A parry and a thrust, a smile playing and eyes widened
An exchange of words like ‘love you’ and ‘miss you’
Those unspoken promises that surpass your lips.

Sometimes, it is the silence that soaks up the pain
Comfortable slippers, routine and knowing again
What another person thinks. What they will do.
How much they mean, what they say, and to you.
Falling, half-dropping into the pattern of their life.

And then isolation calls
A hollowness that can not be denied
It’s time to head home
To a place where I can think, unfettered
Unchained, to retreat and regroup.

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Not sure how much access I will have to the Internet over the next few days ... Just off for a half-term break and will be in sight of the sea by Sunday. First though, a couple of days with the family.

Here's one that is close to my heart to tide you over.

Sleeping apart 

The place you occupy in my heart
Smoulders whenever we sleep apart
Vacant. Unoccupied. Not taken. Bereft.
I slide into the space that you have left.

I reach to touch you, to feel you near.
I whisper your name, but you do not hear.
I lay my head on your side of our bed.
Hugging not you, but your pillow instead.

Your body overshadows mine completely
And the weight of our duvet smothers me
Inhabiting the land of our dreams alone
I make brush strokes on canvassed bone.

I paint the future as a place for you and me
Where this soulless separation need never be
And I wear a smile of contented peace
Waiting for tomorrow, this parting to cease. 

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Some days, I make good progress. Some days, I feel I am going round in circles, one foot pinned to the floor. Whichever direction I choose to take, though, the journey often starts with just one small step. Today, the steps I took were so small, hardly anyone will notice. And yet ...

I started to write this poem in July 2005 but then abandoned it; I finished it in March 2006.

Homelessness

It starts with two feet, walking
After years of two people not talking
The abandonment of all you hold dear
Puzzlement on faces, fear …

... that there’s no place in your head
Where you want to be instead
No one to trust, and no friends
No day that starts well and then better ends …

... if ever, you stop running
Feeling you belong; have faith in living
Find somewhere, where stop you must
And fall in love with someone you can trust 

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

As I stopped for petrol today, the headlines promised seven inches for Britain, and chaos. Seven inches. Like lots of things - you are promised much and then what?

Today's poem was written during a writers' weekend in Manchester ... we were challenged to use alliteration.

Exposed emotions  

Lethargy lingers on lust laden eyes
And clouded thoughts clutch at what went before
One breast escapes from the eiderdown
Exposing emotions to the cooling air
Memories of massaged toes painted bright red
Stirring passion along smoothed calves and thighs
Writhing as one, but two pairs of ears
Listen to the sounds of traffic trundling by.

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

It is a frosty day and, like me, the lady who lives opposite has her boiler going full pelt. A trail of vapour is escaping from a vent in her roof and wandering aimlessly in the still air. The sky is a pale blue, a shadow of itself.

Today's poem, hot off the press, was prompted by a comment from someone who thinks I spend too much time thinking. Perhaps I do.

Introspection

Introspection
Is what I do
I think about us
And wonder about you

I face the truth
Discard the lies
Look on the bright side
With laughter, and no sighs

My take on life
Can fall apart
I think in circles
When you confuse my heart

I lose my way
Eyes off the ball
Slide into a low
And my thoughts hit a stall

But then I wake
Clear head at last
Turned the other way
Puts it all in the past

So I move on
To pastures new
It is my future
Should I spend it with you?

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

When people discover that I write poetry, they ask 'where do your poems come from?' I waffle on but the truth is, I don't know. Something triggers them, and then BANG! out they come. Like today ... an email from a poet friend inviting me to write something for a new publication ... she supplied the starting lines ... I opened Word and out it poured. It is not one of my jolliest (!) but it does explain why I have not written much lately.

There are things my words can’t say to you

There are things my words can’t say to you
Feelings that can’t be expressed
They can’t convey the joy or the fear
Nor the fight going on in my breast

They are trapped inside, these tongue-tied thoughts
Stumbling around in my head
Strangled by the tangle of our arms
Pinned down by the passion in your bed

As your lips touch mine, they turn to stone
Tears spring as you fall asleep
Sobs stick in my throat, they’re choking me
And in praying for strength, I dig deep

I guess I know the end will come soon
I dread that final phone call
The one where you tell me it’s over
And I say, it was nothing at all

As I learn to live with rejection
I’ll sleep on my own again
My words will flow straight on to the page
And rejoice while I’m screaming in pain

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Life is like a helter-skelter - lots of ups and downs. Same goes for relationships ...

LATing: living apart together  

Living apart together
It’s the modern way of life
A chance to share time
Without being man and wife

On together days, it’s bliss
The close and carefree comfort
The hours at mine or yours
And no trace of second thought

Apart, though, it’s not such fun
Separation grows and grows
A gap that widens inexorably
Will it snap? And when? Who knows?

So, come, share my bed tonight
Stroke away the stress and strain
Be mine and rest with me
Ere we’re torn apart again 

To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

Last night, the sky was a mass of stars and the moon shone bright. This morning, there was a sharp frost; and, then, the sun burst through. Lots of promise in the air?

My promise to you 

As the sun rises in the sky
As the golden light breaks through
Today, I solemnly pledge
My forever promise to you

I will not be the one to leave
The one to ruin your day
I’ll never abandon you
While you struggle to find the way

I will stick by you, my darling
Past whatever blocks our path
And I promise, I’ll be there
In every grim aftermath

But then when your journey’s over
And you’ve reached the other side
Parked safe, where the angels go
I’ll say bye and thanks for the ride

You will then be where you belong
And you will not need this friend
I’ll walk on empty handed
Alone, to my own bitter end 
 
To see other poems, visit my website: annerainbow.me.uk

A day can turn on a sixpence?

I slept really well, interesting dreams which included people from my past, glad to see me, dancing with me, their arms around my slim waist (I wish!).

I did my usual routine: dressing gown on, kettle on, laptop on ... changed the message on my phone so that anyone calling knows I know what day it is. Checked my bank balance and my stars ... read my emails and cleared them. Decided what work I would do today and felt really relaxed and optimistic about how the day would end.

And then I turned on the radio. John Humphries having a heated debate with our Prime Minister - about the Health Service and doctor's pay in particular. Sorry, Tony, but the conviction in your voice does nothing for me. Never did. I turn the radio off and put some music on instead.

Today's poem was written two years ago, at election time. I've come a long way since then - and I'm now looking forward to where I'll be two years hence. As for TB, I'm not too bothered where he will be ...

My head is full of strangers  

Old and tired and so often at a loss
I see the world pass by as I sleep
The endless spouting politicians’ sleaze
Promise the earth for just one cross
Touching flesh and making it creep
As their slime infects the air I breathe

O’er the years, I’ve played the roles
Been here, and there and everywhere
Waiting patiently for the recognition to land
Now, soaked in the tears of rejection I bear
I’m ten again, a girl still and torn apart
Confronted with thoughts I don’t understand

My head is full of strangers. The me I used to be
The ones I may become, and many others that I hide
I am drowning in a sea of remembered faces
Spinning through a plethora of exotic places
So, hold my hand and keep me safe, hug me close
And never leave. I need someone like you on my side. 

It is a full moon at 05:47 tomorrow, but this one was written after a moonless night.

It takes two

Eyes meeting. Lovers, greeting.
Lips smiling. Words unspeaking.
Hands brushing. Fingers clasping.
Arms surrounding. Peaceful sin.

Mouths moving. Two tongues, tracing.
Skin stroking. Silken soft’ning.
Legs looping. Longing. Lusting.
Heat fulfilling. Deep within.

Slow slipping. Sliding. Gliding.
Trust building. Buttocks thrusting.
Exploding. Fire, dying.
Withdrawing. Shoulder trying.

Eyes closing. Slumber sleeping.
Tears weeping. Kindness keeping.
Dreamless dreaming. Moonless night.
Hopeless hoping. Is this right?