hurt

That second fall was worse than I thought.

The pain of aches and needs haunting
my restless slumber throughout the night.
Bruised and sprained, a pulling in the abs,
the back and up around the heart. This morning
nap after nap, and roaming about free, foregoing
the struggle of everyday bindings.

Been a long time since I was bruised, felt sore;
the good, clean kind of hurt from over exertion;
the lights, the music, the laughter and joy.
Been a while since I took any chances
but I guess I was about due and so I stepped forth.
Consciously have I indulged fully aware

life is not lived in books and thought. Though
it is knowing what I need, it is not lived in strict
ideals but weights and measures, for it is lived
in taking the chance of falling, getting bruised...

hurt.

paint me with fingertips
of cool caress, wine spilt
from tongue and lips
and words sweetly
dipped in desire's intent.

green tea with mango

and she is suddenly flush
too warm. The week
had passed in whispers
of passion, little more.

What is this? she sighed.
and in restless thought
conclusions came clean;

processing a priori to priori
to conclusionary statements of
invalid over and over again
until the validation came;

greed. So simple, she adores
what they are but wants
quantity as well as quality.

Oh she is a greedy girl.