Corsets and innuendos noire of arsenic dressed in green velvet listening to the bayou breathe through the shutters; the scent of magnolias...rolling sweetly in my baby's arms as whalebones sing, tracing her fingers around the rim of her bourbon,...

my obsession...cold coffee and cigarettes turning to ash.My fingers clinched around the quill's flesh, penning inkto the dark side, slowly a minuet. The coffee reflectingeach stroke I make, dragging the shaft...oozing in my mind,sluicing my ink in paragraphs, a...

The hunger in my eyes, for nicotine craving the scent, striking the match for the sulfurand flames of your lips leaving the ashes as I follow in a a dimly lit room of tobacco and your leaf of toasted...

...of gazebo and teaa heavy scent of night shademingling with the green ivyyour carotid artery's crescendopuling the nectarof your sweet divineunfolding in my armsnever growing old...of gazebo and tea

...in sync with sushi and wasabion your tonguea delicate pillow of pressed pearlwaking the sensesa rolling crescendoof spooling secretsin the heat of a breathless shadow

...as twilight fell to the edge of our peak's matterhorn with a stillness of breathlessly innuendos ajar each vertebra down on the sheets over shadowsand svengali caught between our fingerslike a sail unmoored beneath the stars...but you hold the...

That night, I slept in her bed for the first time. Emma, my foster Mom climbed on top of me, and I surrendered completely to the sweetness of her touch. She rubbed her heavy breasts against my chest, teasing...

Hi, my friends"I taping this as it happens..." The four of them gathered in a circle, naked, in the candle lights. Outside the rain is falling in torrents as they chanted, holding hands: "A thousand dawns your lips my...

"Breathe in through your nose, exhale through your mouth, slowly, like honey dripping off a spoon," came the whisper. "Not with your lungs but with your hips' deepest hinge." The voice belonged to a woman with fingers that moved...

...you don't know me very well, like you think you do. The scars don't show unless I want them to. "You'd be surprised what people hide in plain sight," as they hibernate. I am no little jack horner. The...

...unquenchable insomnia, giving in to my obsessionof sweet Vermouth, between security and debaucherymy cunt chapped from torment and mercy as the winds howl like an Evinrudeand my hips begging for salvationwhile your semen drips down my thighsupsetting the rimming...

Mother Superior, Sister Annachelle's fingers trembled against the rosary beads as she knelt in the confessional, though not from piety. Shoving the devil's horn, anatomically correct dildo, in her freshy mown cunt. Outside, the cicadas screamed their endless refrain,...

In my American southern Gothic portmanteau, i am uninhibited, when it comes to the opposite sex. Not surviving on pornography alone. Listening to voices in my head. My ink becoming my mind's apothecary, fantasizing debauchery with ex my mother-in-law,...

I am your Guru...you a whore, arching,your mouth my cock's bed as my tongue takes laps between your thighs,dancing on your labia of bitter cyanidea requiem, prayer of ecstacydrawing blood, because...death never felt so goodclawing at my back