Tall Cool One

You look at me across a fire with hunger and a knowing that cuts through the buffer I think is there. You stand close enough to feel my breath, you watch me move, you call my name and it cuts my excuses short. I want to be near you, to smell your chest and taste the salt on your neck. I can look and smile but I'm frozen in my longing. Like a deer in the headlights, I'm mesmerized. I feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust, consumed by my own passion.

Ounce by Ounce

Old looming trees - sun and sky,
A dog, good friends, my girl-child and I

I'll sit, talk, play, and strum my guitar,
campfire entranced, clothes covered in char

I'll think - oh I'm lonely for a woodsy man,
then I'll counter - no I'm happy - I really am

Well it could be true that I may be a bit desolate,
but I'm open and willing - the rest's up to fate

When the sticks fall down what really counts
Is savouring the moments, ounce by ounce

I count these times as silver and gold
Loved ones beside me, these treasures I behold

SM June 2004

Feel No Shame

My ivory soul shouts out: What makes a whore?

If I loved your breath on my velvet soft neck
The scrape of your whiskers: pleasure-sweet-pain
Would you cast me a harlot?

If I sighed as you unbuckled me, suckled me and then fucked me
Would you think me impure?

If I yearned for the throb, the pulse and the thrust
The blush and the moan, the gush and the foam
Would you - could you - judge me a whore?

Speak softly my love...
for the nymphs may be listening - and remember this:

My frosted peach kiss will fall as tender tears on your cheek
with the warmth and smile of candy floss delight
Every luscious curve of my body will open,
inviting you in to my soul-world of pink caress.

Honour me fully for my gift of surrender
The purity of my passion rings sweetly with the music of my soul
I feel no shame

SM June, 2004

I want to know...

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with JOY, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty everyday, and if you can source your life on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon.

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Oriah, Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder

Creating Love: Strategic Plan

Vision: A long term soul connection based on two whole people supporting each other in reaching new heights.

Mission: To seek out opportunities to meet mature, intelligent, passionate and creative men who are unencumbered.

Goal:To create a shared long term future with someone who holds similar values, ambitions, dreams and passions.

Strategies:

1. Increase opportunities to meet strong men with a similar outlook on life.
2. Improve engagement tactics by finding ways to be less inhibited in approaching and interacting with men I'm attracted to.
3. Maintain a vision of what I want to create and only pursue those interactions that support that vision.
4. Invest my current time and resources in health and well being and recommit regularly to personal excellence.

Saltwater Crush

Crinkly eyes find mine through wafts of old nicotine
Your dangling eloquence captivates but leaves me wanting
Let's do coffee, lunch or grow old together on an old porch swing
Would your gentle flattery still entice with the change of seasons?
Would I remain faithful to this schoolgirl crush?
you're slipping into the space between my thoughts,
Like warm ocean water between my thighs
My quilt is plumped to wrap you in soft caress
Climb in - Stay with me a while....


Afterword:
As foreshadowed, this infatuation faded before I could even blog it....Oh well.... I'll blog the ending some other time.

Flirtation or Intent?

Well, last night was a strange mix of adolescent regression, spiritual playfulness, heartfelt connection and an experiment in submission.

Around the table knowing glances are passed but no table talk please.
Socked feet amuse themselves in a secret embrace below while trump are led.
With daughter sleeping elsewhere, this evening, anything is possible.
Drew jokes about an orgy but who would dare?
My left foot finds its way to his jean lap. A familiar (but failed) love - comfortable and safe.
Across from me, radiant playfulness aurates from Sarah, inviting my feet to an even warmer resting spot. Hmmmmm...
The tentative heat of her hands penetrates my curved arches, permeating through the nylon. We euchre them - ha!
Flirtation or intent?
We've known each other for far too long and without beer or wine no one is sure how far they'd really go.
What's really required is an aggressor to call the bluff.
I rise as Drew is declared the champion - "How about a game of truth or dare?"
I light candles and vanilla warmth creates an inviting cocoon in the next room.
Norah Jones entertains us from her smoky jazz bar in the corner

TRUTH be told -
favorite Sexual position?
Female: Hands and knees, chest pressed on the floor

Most perverse turn on?
Male: Bound woman, completely submissive, invitation to dominate and invade

Lost virginity?
Female: 14th birthday, in the back of Tom's Chevy Van, while my best friend waited outside

Most sensitive spot?
Female: My clit - PLEAAAASSSSE be careful!

Most horrible moment sexually?
Male: Selling myself for drugs

Ever sold yourself?
Female: No. Well.... once had sex with someone who helped me on a piece of work at home. It wasn't really trade but more of a thanks.


One of the guys confesses that he thinks this is a bit weird and can we just talk. I didn't mind. I would have kissed Sarah if I'd been dared. I think she wanted me to and I've never kissed a woman on the mouth before.

I tell them all I'm taking Drew upstairs and we wrap it up.

Sarah lingers at the front door and I ask if she wants to stay. She blushes and says she hasn't shaved her legs!!!

I'm OK with that and give her a big hug goodbye. I think she wanted to stay. It would have been OK with me but I really like our friendship and don't want to risk it becoming awkward.

Drew and I head up stairs and I hand him a few scarves to tie me up. He teases me with no avail and we both work ourselves into a complete frenzy.
Drew is really wonderful in bed and a great friend - I nearly say I love you more than once during our exercise in submission but catch myself.
Maybe having him stay all night wasn't such a good idea. It's too snuggly - I didn't want him to go.

We both know we're not meant to be together though. We keep each other company while we wait for the real thing. I've got to do better at keeping my emotions in check though if I'm going to stay involved with him physically. I don't know anyone else that I can call after 10:30 either so I know I lean on him in other ways. I want to call him tonight and invite him over. I would have thought last night would have kept me satisfied for a couple of weeks but I guess that's just not how it works is it?

A Moment of Truth

I hold the universe in my heart
I feel every small thing - and every vastness
It’s in my bones, my sinew, my breath and the space between my thoughts
I hear the echoes of days gone by and am astonished at the evolved complexity
and simplicity
It’s one breath in, another out, repeated… like the seasons and the eras
This is the meaning of life – breathe in breathe out feel the spaces know the truth
My love draws me to infinite communion – with all that is and ever was
And even what will be
I can BE
I can be significance and grandeur
My infinite self awakes with each breath with each smile with each tear
I surrender my precious heart to all that awaits
I honour my aliveness
I embrace my infinite power – my unlimited potential
I sense the perfection of this moment with piercing clarity
I am of all things great and small
I AM

SM, 2004

Alabaster Time

It's smooth and white like the neck of an Italian marble statue
tempered, delicate, shaded creaminess flowing like white hot lava
she thinks I am desperate for her all the time
but it's her alabaster thigh travelling through my eye

yes I need her every moment
yes I want her for all instants
yes I long for her hours
yes her right now

And I will come when she beckons and beckon to her coming
I will find my way to her when she calls my name
I will be there in fashionably good time but never desperate
For my glimpse and caress of her alabaster thigh

She thinks me desperate of clocks sweet ticking
She thinks me wanting moments to pass
She thinks me longing for hands to be moving
She of the alabaster thigh

But I am not desperate for the cold marble
I am not longing for translucent stone
I want to smell her aroma lingering across her alabaster thigh
And I will be there on alabaster time

Ed, 2002

Waving

Torn hose cling to my white thigh, escaped flesh dancing
A black knit skirt clings like peach fuzz, veiling the latent invitation
Someone knows though, - I catch his not so furtive glance in the corner of my eye
Knees bent, I pluck at the plus sized pantyhose on the shelf
Sheer silks or regular smoking coal?
I'll take the latter - my legs are silk enough
The suit passes by again, scurrying back for one last item (or perhaps another glimpse)
This time I let my eyes meet his
I move through the checkout and my escaped creamy thigh waves goodbye