Treasure

pexels-photo-487723You are a jewel

within the treasure chest

of my heart.

You are my topaz,

set in crushed red velvet.

You are my secret

that I have locked away.

A forbidden love,

too decadent

to reveal.

 

You charmed me

like a snake

in the dark ethereal woods

of Vrindavan.

 

I was a curvy goddess

of ruby lips,

creamy moonstone breasts,

liquid gold

between my thighs,

who got fucked

by a god

in a dream

and awoke

to an empty bed.

 

Yet my tears

become stones.

Wondrous precious stones.

 

They shine within me,

opalescent with hope.

A whisper, kyanite flecked,

a rose quartz-hued ache,

obsidian longing,

black and deep.

 

Hidden beneath my clothes,

I wear

an alabaster cameo

carved in your image.

The memory of you

pressed against my warm skin.

I can still feel

your mouth on mine,

can still hear

the faraway sound

of your approach,

your amorous

flutesong.

 

 

 

 

 

Dark Pleasure

A dark pleasure.

You were the one

to lead me

into this shadow dream.

You beckoned me

with your penetrating stare,

your high cheekboned haughtiness,

your eyes impassive and stony,

your cheeky necklace of carved bones.

You tantalized me

with omens and portents,

with aggressive kisses,

pretty words full of poison,

seductive lures.

Until I surrendered

eagerly

to your naked depravity.

You hijacked my body

like a thug,

breaking and entering,

violently taking over,

until all I wanted

was you.

Then you were an inside job.

You were inside me

and I needed you

to stay

with me.

I sought primal wholeness

in you,

like a snake eats its tail.

Like a shaman eats

the vine of the dead,

seeking completion

at the edge of the abyss.

La petite mort.

You annihilate me,

my lover,

yet still

I soar.

Dusky Rose

    
Do you still drink

of my succulence
in the hot July heat 
of a faraway dream,
my ethereal scent of geranium
rising from your night sweat,

a fragrant, poignant memory?
You know 

my taste is sweet,

that of plumeria honey.
Flowering in the sensate garden 

of my bed,

I turn towards you,
in vivid sleep.

You are my beloved ghost,
cradled in the flourishing vines
of my arms.

You may see me

as a Venus fly trap,
cunning and expedient.

But I am not that, no.
I am a dusky rose,

carefree and forgiving.
A beautiful flower,

unwittingly planted

in the dark soil

of your mind.
Pua Nani.

Take Me

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On the wings
of my sadness
I flew into a dream
of you.

I thought I had lost you.

Yet Desire stood
waiting to be reassembled
like companion pieces of a jigsaw puzzle
into a familiar template.

You came for me
in the rooms of my dreamtime
where doors
are always unlocked for you.

You slipped past my mother’s protective guard.

You entered.

We faced each other,
solemn with sweet relief.

Your hips slid
into the groove
of my own,
locking into place,
where they fit so well
like wooden railroad tracks,
bound to each other
to forge a pathway.

I climbed on,
rode you.

I don’t care so much about the destination,
but only
that you take me.

The Beach

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At the beach,
I dig my toes
into the sand
of time,
resting upon
a mosaic of grains,
multicolored like memories
of past and future,
a magic carpet,
where I lie
in a reverie.

A fragrance lingers
in the salty air.
The scent of your skin
upon mine.
I am a supplicant
before this eternal mystery.

I wait
for you
to take me
like the tide.