Craving

I'm not sure I like this one. This is the start of another, heck I don't even know what you call it. But I just don't think it flows well together. It's not finished. What do you think?

1) Trash it and start over

2) Keep it and finish

3) I don't care and why are you asking me?

A fragrant scent wafts through the room
Vanilla candles, rose potpourri fill the atmosphere as
Dimly lit streaks of fire flames dance upon the mirrors gaze.
Uncloaked figures entwine exposing their very being

The radiance caressing bare thighs
The luminance stroking exposed breast
Passion Burning through the mirrors reflection

Moans and whispers break the scents
As the two figures breathe in the air

‘Take me’ she pants as he pulls her close, lips parted
Inhaling her very essence. Enchanted by her pulchritudinous.

Their eyes close as his hands etch to her cheeks
His lips soft as he explores her mouth plump with desire.
She kisses back feeling the tenderness in his touch as his tongue caresses hers.
He pulls back gently and benevolently kisses her once.
His smile perfect and easy as she slowly opens her eyes.
She reaches up to him. Her hands wrap around him and she renders into him. She gasps for breath as her body recedes into the craving
She coils her leg around his thigh and presses into his manhood. Hunger rises to her core.

On my way

Testing the winds to see if I can fly. Soaring upon the breeze. Feeling the air as it takes me higher. Higher. Higher to heights I’ve only dreamed.

Inquiring into the ocean to see if I can swim. The mighty sea takes me further. Further. Further than I thought it could.

Aspiring to be all that I can

Conceiving what I could be

Vigilant to what will

Trying Invane

(typed last night and just cut to here this morning)

I miss being in your embrace. To try and keep that thought from my mind is like trying to keep a bee from its nectar. Futile.

To try and keep the thought of the way the touch of your hand upon my skin felt is like trying to keep a drunk away from a wine bottle. Impossible when he can remember the warm feel of it sliding down his throat as it encircles its way to his stomach.

Trying to keep the sound of your voice from echoing in my ear is like trying to keep a kitten from its mother. Preposterous as it remembers the warmth and delight that sound accompanied.

Trying to keep the taste of your lips out of my senses is like trying to keep a child from an ice-cream stand. Vain, when they can remember the way the ice-cream tantalized there taste buds as it slid past their lips.

Trying to keep me from wanting you is like trying to keep the Northern Geese from migrating. Useless when the desire is burned upon their consciousness.

Tell me why I have allowed myself to be reduced to this. Tell me why I’m biting my lip at the thought of you. Tell me why you pass through my thoughts. Tell me why I am sitting in black bra, panties, and necklace typing this about you.

It’s simple.

I miss you.

I want you.

Badly.

Ode to a little extra weight

An Ode to Thick Women.

ugly. thick. fat.

that's what you say.

to the woman who doesn't look like you

to the woman with a little more sway.

Who gave you the right to tell us we're ugly. I like the way my thighs curve. I like the way my tummy shakes when I giggle to hard and it rolls a little when I sit down. I like the way my boobs are uneven. I like the way way my butt is plump. I like the way my eyes look like a doe's . I like the way I have way to many freckles. I like the way my hair frizzes. I like the way my nose flares when I'm mad. I like the way my upper arms are a little thicker. i like the way my stretch marks remind me of the day I gave birth. I like the way they put a different texture to my skin. I like the way my scars shine white. I like the way my calves are thick. I like the way I have a broken vessel on my leg where I won a competition after blocking a shin kick and jabbing. You know what. I like me.

Who allowed you to define me?

What makes me unbecoming because we don't look alike?

Why can't you accept we are different and that's what makes us beautiful?

Eat a candy bar. It'll make you feel better.

Interjection: You know, I've been fat, chunky, thin, and inbetween. I've never been morbidly obese. So I won't claim to know what's that like. You know I have my own hangups but I really wish women could learn to appreciate one another. Maybe if we could learn to appreciate each other's differences we could learn to accept ourselves as beautiful, unique, and wonderful. It starts with you. Take the initiative. See something admiral in the girl you pass in the street. Find something exquisite in your coworker who you love to hate. In doing so you just may find something pulchritudinous in yourself .

Smiles. Laughter.

All to hide the pain

Ripped at the heart

Ripped at the seams

Another spot found again.



Happy Labor Day

this one won't be forgotten.









My Labor day:


Today is not so hot. I am very worn out.




My brother is down visiting for the week.




Yesterday he found another lump in his neck.




Happy Labor Day.




Not really.




But we had a great day regardless.




Life's not fair.




Life's just not fair.

Right now. Unrested

The hum of the air conditioner fills the air. The sound of a running aquarium filter plays in the background. The steady click of a a keypad.

The quiet breaths of two dogs breathing. Asleep. Dreaming. Maybe of bones. Maybe of fetch. Maybe of being able to speak.
Lights dim. The glare of a monitor. The soft white light bleeding out from under red lamp shades.

Feet resting on soft, plush, beige low shag carpet. Arms resting by side. Fingers nimble on the keys. Thighs sunk into a red couch covered by beige throws. The smell of fresh plants fills the air.

Mind unrested. Longing for sleep. Thoughts flutter across eyelids and dance into cognition. Heart slowed. Breathing calm. Sweet serenity almost in reach.

Okay...so you all know the Brian from my previous blogs of "What am I thinking about for 2-3 minutes." Well he is now sitting in front of me at a Starbucks and I am listening to him playing acoustical guitar and singing. He's wearing blue jeans, plaid orange and blue shirt, flip flops and a black Taylor hat. His fingers strumming the Taylor (guitar). He makes it come to life as he works with out effort, like a bee sucks the nectar from a flower and turns it into a sweet tantalizing honey. As does the lyrics rolling off his tongue like the honey melting in your mouth into a delectable taste that makes your tongue scream for mercy. Oww is he good. So good. A guitar in his hand is like a sword in Achilles palm. A very gift from the Gods that be, to tempt your soul and make you beg for mercy.

Frank is here. He hangs out at the guitar store. Frank is sporting a green jacket, brown polo, blue jeans and brown shoes. He is talking to shazzy about music. He has perfect pitch. If you are playing something he can tell you exactly which chord/note you need next. I find that amazing. Frank is very grounded. His humor is sometimes dry and sometimes I don't understand it, but I find him very fascinating and intriguing for that mix. He is so....reserved I find it interesting. He makes my brain tick because there is nothing 'fantasyish' if you will, about him. For that reason sometimes he confuses me. I enjoy the analytical ism he brings to the atmosphere. Something I would never bring. He is so clever. When he listens he actually hears what you say. He is quite interesting.
Now Shazzy is here too!!! I am so excited she is here. She absolutely makes my day. She is fancying a white/gray hippy floral print, plaid shorts, real leather tie up moccasins, and her black/brown arty glasses. Her lips sip upon pumpkin spice latte. She is also blogging at this moment on her new art decor Inspiron. Shit, even her laptop is more creative than mine!
I tell you she has such creative energy that flows it arouses my passion (not to mention the music invading me). She's like my muse. If you could find two people that just meshed so well and their strengths and weaknesses complimented each other, I think that would be her and I. She gives me strength when I am weak. She lifts me up when i am down. I know this is so sappy but she truly is the wind beneath my wings. I hope I somehow help her as much as she does me. I just love to be with her. Love ya girl!

Okay back to Brian. He has his eyes closed as he is feeling the rhythm of the music. His body keeping tune to the infectious purr of the guitar. The bass player pounding the beat into your core. Making the temptation within come to life as it strums upon your passion to awaken. The music begging for your spirit of freedom to release! Can I throw my bra now??? Oh sorry this is Starbucks.

Alright so I guess we know what everyone is wearing and doing. What am I wearing. God this blog has been reduced to what I'm wearing! Okay if I said nothing...then it would fit with my theme! But I am fetching a black fitted T-shirt, a ballet type wrap, dark Gray pin stripped Capris, snake skin kitten heel sandals, and a mound of black-white-and amber beads. Oh yes...so yuppish today.