Know Me



Sleep calls.

And as I fall into my pillow

and take stock of our times,


I truly wonder

how well we know each other-

ever knew each other-


why it doesn’t really matter

if we ever,





She voted one way,  he the other.  They strike a balance.  And never, really rest.


#for Reticent Mental Property. Image courtesy of Getty Images stock photos.

Reblog: Trust

Trust me with parts of you others do not even know exist I will tender you in cosset and spin ugliness above your head wrap you against void and beneath terror, stoke mercy this is my pledge take my arm take a leap of faith stay your wont of emptiness and insular climb from well […]

via Not all patterns are for life — thefeatheredsleep


Daily Prompts- Muse


Walk with me, match my stride, ease my energy into yours.

There’s something at play in the design of your form, something at play in the way mine has found yours.

Here. Hold my hand, please. The length of your arm, the way my palm rests against yours, no bend in my wrist, no need to adapt to the bones of our fingers. See how we fit.

My thumb moves over and over yours, back and forth, a tender stroking, sometimes a press- the pad of my finger, just one tiny thumbprint on the vast trail of nerves on your entire surface and you detect it, you pause to try and see through my eyes some detail I am adding to our shared memories.  We see together, feel together, in this dance of response.

I didn’t choose your bones, your skin, your hands; they chose mine.



Count on me.  Let me fall asleep tracing the lines of my lover.  

#for Reticent Mental Property. Participating for the first time in WordPress Daily prompts. August 3, 2016.




Out of Service


When we meet I warn you.

I have a penchant for kissing, a need to be stilled, an irresponsible distraction of duty begins in those moments of amusement.

Hours of immersion in touch, the capture of time through skin on skin as you dance with me, for me, above me, inside of me.

I care for no tethers and cannot adhere to my own limits, desires. How can I berate you for the same?

Weakened, pleasured, adored- I command no one.

I fail gloriously in resistance as I take in your tongue,  your boys,  your heat, your fingers, your heart.


She talks through kisses. She swears when she gets there.  She laughs, after, in the ease of the love they make.

#for Reticent Mental Property. Images courtesy of the web.




In my dream I drag you into the front car and together, we fly down the steepness, holding on to what seems solid, we are at the mercy of the forces of physics and time.


We choose to link ourselves to the rails of steel where the mindset of the operator determines our ride. We lock in, clamp down, race on the track, beg for soft landings.


We pose for the snap of the camera at the turn of curve five where the sharp change of direction snaps necks.  On cue, heads thrown back into our seats, we still give them the smile for the capture of the money shot. We look down and see our families below, dancing and nodding. At the exit we stop to pay more for the heart shaped frame.


Facing adrenaline fears is worth the price of the ticket say the sellers at the door.  All around us others are lined up in the aisles, hand in hand, no cold feet on a summer day. The ride is longer than we imagined it might be. The conversation strained in the ups and downs. The comforting hand patting my knee slides up to my inner thigh and leaves bruises.


In my dream I recognize a younger me in the frame.  I am wearing white, his ascot tie is secured with a diamond pin.  I reach for the headboard to steady myself and hang the happy grimace above the bed.

Bad dreams in waking moments are called choices. 
#for Reticent Mental Property. Images courtesy of the web. March 28, 2016. ATL

Sensual stillness



I will remember the contrast of stillness to a sharp awakening, the quivering eruptions on flesh gone suddenly cold, but so alive at your strike. You knew all of me. You found your strongest gentle side.

I remember the quest to put admirable lessons into the memories of our muses, contentment from pews full of knowers when our days were done. Pitiful goals, we abandoned them in salute to our fit. 

I will remember to never settle for less than a knee-weakening kiss. So telling. Listen. 

I will remember the the awareness of how little I knew once. I am forever indebted to my teachers. To yours.  Lessons good and not. 

I will remember his attempted tether through suggestion of my inaccuracies and perceptions, the misunderstanding of physical poetic desire, his understanding of sensual energy, borne raw in touch and birthed and cradled in the arms of conversation and wit.

Engage. Be heard. Learn, I implored. I was speaking to myself, before all others. 

Above all, I remember my willingness to walk, the power of my place in my time and of my choice.  

When do we admit our worth is at stake?


She embraced the humbled strength of experience, tolerance fired with the heat of perspective.


#for Reticent Mental Property. March 24, 2015. Images courtesy of the web.


I am hurting

but I will heal.

I hear the bones of life are stronger

for the breaking, the mending.

The spine and mind

confirm the standstill of time

while we pull ourselves up

to clifftops washed in the colors of breathing.


regret the splattering of marrow?


attempt to heal all battles with sensual strumming?

Let us not waste our renewed


Step off of the safest roads,

risk injury for your story,

get into those pages of your most painful stirrings,

let tender care bandage the mistakes of the wisdom making,

and kick out the crutch of your comfort.

Lean into me

Recklessly, headlong, headstrong into the dawn of your choosing,

mouth open, head back, hair streaming, laughing out loud joyful crooning,

a song of your own,

authentic and worthy of earth’s turning.


It was the summer she learned to sip Scotch, shoot pool and cook for one. 


#for Reticent Mental Property. Image courtesy of the web.