Manuela

soft salt
coffee talk

Marlena

im blindfolded and i dont know how many people are fucking me.

Frankie

Kelly

arrêtes ton cinéma!

Celine

Ariane

Tatjana

court tick slice schtick.

gig up baby get gone

Mia

i caught her fish tailing right in front of me!
skims the surface all spider legged light.
hands dry white salt

Lila

fucking tease

i like it.

illusion and illusionist,
i bow beautiful service to believe her dance.

freedom is the flight
its just belief that keeps me sailing.

Rose

inside out love songs

He pulls me close, turns me around, my body is a tool. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. His desire lashes at me, wrestles me down, pulls me under and rips me of protection. This is new law. Wrecked ship against shore. I want it. I want to break this thunder. To hold lightning solid. I can take it, direct and intended, fierce run through me. I hold fire, I swallow force.




Everyone is looking at her. She is laughing and contagious and spilling all over this room. They laugh just to see her laugh, her hand glides up through the air like a bird, fingertips to chest as though to contain herself, but she can't. She oozes through the room. I can feel her wash over me, my eyes are heavy, my face warm, then my mouth, my mouth, I can feel the softness of my own mouth. I imagine her's. I want to bring our softness together. My thighs feel warmer, I'm holding secrets that beg me to be free. I am brimming and bubbling and I want to overflow. She walks past me and I can smell her. She is warm like honey and wood, cool with lavender and lawn.



He was standing behind me on line at the dmv. Tall, black, strong, without his he could have been a king in a different time. Instead he is reinstating his driving privileges; just gotten out of jail, five years I overheard him say. He had a tattoo on his neck, a pretty cursive that curled out the words "trust no one". I wanted to touch it so bad. I felt like I could touch him directly, touch him straight to the core there. I didn't want it to hurt. I wanted him to melt. He was calloused, hard but serene, he had a callous on his forehead from praying. Forehead to floor, forehead to floor. I wondered if that made him feel better. I wondered how long it will take him to feel better? Will he ever feel better? I wanted to touch his tattoo, I wanted to travel inside of him and plant a garden, give him something that would grow into pretty. I don't think he would have said no, I don't think he would have said yes, its none of my business at all. But I want to know, is the pain part of the healing? Is it making him stronger? How long will he have to pay? How hard do we have to work to be soft? How do we heal?



She has no qualms when we step over the barbed wire fence. Her energy swells and diminishes; a boat, a balloon. We cross sea and soar mountain, slip from tree to hawk to river to woman; without loss of breath, without loss of step. She holds my hand. Our palms snicker about future and past. Our legs are lava flow and we are swept under red molten and slide down the mountain we soared so to form it again. Our game is a dance, ribbons and rays. Her voice cocoons me the murmur of sea, we spread and dissolve into a school of fish.
I am sea foam, she is salt.



I'm blindfolded and I don't know how many people are fucking me.