Feast

flakeybakey:

Divine, the way she licks her lips,
and captures every bit of chocolate
on her pretty pink tongue.
Sublime, the touch of lips to fork,
supreme sensuality encapsulated
in a single bite.
Marvel at her beauty, her form,
for every movement
is a study in wonder.
Desire her more with every breath,
with every swallow,
until she offers you a taste.


- thank you to Azuki Lynn for her invaluable help with this poem.

(Reblogged from flakeybakey)

Time

There are no walls
that can hold me

No artists who
can mold me

Like sand, I will slip
through your fingers

I will leave when you
ask me to linger

There are no stones
that can break me

No tools that can
unmake me

Only weavers
understand
my mind

My endless desire
for ties that bind

Thread upon thread
they capture me

Where beauty
joins infinity

Azuki Lynn

(Reblogged from ulvdell)

Roy G. Biv

The prismatic play of sunlight
through crystal-cut glass
lulls me off to sleep…

My dreams are painted with
rainbows and saffron.

Azuki Lynn

Between Part V

extra firm pillow
soft, strong thighs
feather-light
thrusting
squeezing
nipples
adjusting
angle
getting
there
at
last
moans
jesus H.
christ
whimpers
i miss you baby
embraces
linens
cries

Azuki Lynn

forpoetry:

I can’t stop falling in love with poetry. 

(Reblogged from forpoetry)
(Reblogged from ladyandthebeast)

no hurry

wordrummager:

go on ahead
without me
I’m looking at flowers

(Reblogged from wordrummager)

Invisible

echoes-of-me:

Do you ever feel
Like you’re disappearing?
Out of sight,
Out of hearing?

(Reblogged from echoes-of-me)

shadow-writer:

We share
a sickbed.

You,
reduced to
a fever dream,
eyes bright
blue planets
piercing
an indigo sky

and I,
skin burning cold,
lick your name
from parched lips

and swallow you
whole,
both the antidote
and the affliction.

(Reblogged from shadow-writer)
(Reblogged from echoes-of-me)

Weekend

the-ravens-song:

There were words sung
and the chant of high pines
tolling memories of wind.
I listened
to the sorrow
of rocks risen up
from the earth
and saw two women in love
dance on the Blue Ridge;
but when I awoke
that final morning,
there was no need
to speak or write.
There was birdsong
greeting the dawn,
a spreading pool of light
on the rich patina
of old oak,
and you,
standing in shadow,
watching me breathe.

© Jude Dippold. 2014

(Reblogged from the-ravens-song)

A Sweet Invitation

Originally posted April 24, 2013

Tickle me with with your honey legs,
said the flower to the bee,
Drink my nectar down to its dregs,
until I swoon with love for thee.

Clothe thyself with my essence,
spread my pollen far and wide,
My kindred will know your presence,
saying: Come inside, come inside!

So tickle their fancies, every one,
then fly back home to me,
I’ll kiss thy feet, beneath the sun,
before I set you free.

Azuki Lynn

labelledamesansdice:

A piercing thought
(you are wanted)
a frail spirit reborn

(Reblogged from labelledamesansdice)

Made a pot of chicken soup today. My gal and I have been struggling with Spring colds. That’s one reason I haven’t been around as much.

I think Spring or Summer colds are much harder to shake off.

Hope this soup helps! Serving it with dark bread sweet rolls, honey butter, and some nice, refreshing green tea.