poem

Whisper In My Ear [with audio]

*spoken word*

Your words whisper in my ear.
Your voice does things to me
That haven’t been felt in years.

My heart races
My insides quicken
I want to hear more

I listen when I’m alone
To be safe from disturbance.
I listen while at work
In hopes that no one notices
The reaction your whisper creates.
I listen before I sleep at night;
You’re the last thing I want to hear.

Blow by blow, your words hit deep.
The aching and longing are no strangers to me
But nothing else does it justice,
Not like they deserve.
Nothing can explain
Or perfectly portray
These feelings the same way.


Listen to my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book:
Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

poem

Weekly Sessions [with audio]

Slowly she enters the room
and approaches the bed.
She’s not feeling too keen on much else
than having poetry read.

She opens the book,
scans the room,
and gives you the look
to proceed.

Your breathless monologues
are what she needs.
She’s not looking for more,
only for your words.

Your voice begins to trigger sensations down below
as she closes her eyes,
breathes deep,
and sighs.

Your words soothe the tension
as each word is given careful attention,
knowing how each one caresses her mind,
seizing on the opportunity
to the revealing of her true beauty;
this is your one chance for unity.

She is captured by your guise.
You firmly believe the efforts are worthwhile.
The feeling is mutual
and catching you both by surprise.

You rise,
she’s reached her peak.
There are no more words left to speak.
The mind is tired and the body is weak.
You lean in and say, ‘I guess I’ll be seeing you next week.’


Listen to my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

poem

you spoke to me

Eyes down,
eyes averted from the truth
I took a chance
A glance in your direction
Then your eyes met mine

Me in my red dress
You in that captivating charm
We couldn’t ignore the electricity that sparked
As we longed to embark on a fiery journey

It didn’t take much
A sly grin as a welcoming
A slight brush against my thigh
A beating began within our chests
And traveled to our loins
And we knew

And you said, “Now the real danger begins.”
It was a spark to ignite the nuclear holocaust
Everyone in its wake affected
caught by the fire
or deserted after the storm had passed

All I wanted was your hands lifting my red dress
To feel your warm breath next to my skin
To hear the song of poetry between two lovers
I didn’t want much but I craved it all
After that first taste.

poem

A Dream Landscape

original photo from AdoreMe.com

Dream of love in lace
covering favorite go-to places.

Dreams far from anything you’ve ever recognized,
all desires realized.

Dreams that leave you transformed, molded,
leaving you painted in bold colors.

Dreams of the most flattering shapes
forming a perfect match of colliding lovers in a dream landscape.

A divine love operating with mouths agape.
Sighs, not words, are the only sounds that’ll escape.

poem

Look Up…

Above the streets, into the buildings & trees,

do you see what only we see:

a needed escape,

an expression

of pleasing—

head back,

eyes closed,

legs parted,

a kiss on the lips—

it takes us to the moment

where we rise into pure ecstasy;

there’s no other place we’d rather be.

poem

Train Ride Home

inspired by The Last Night of Your Trip

on the train ride home
your smile flashed between buildings,
lights flickered and i couldn’t tell
if it was the spark in your eye
or the streetlights beaming
onto the dark streets.

i saw your smile and your hand
reaching for mine,
those bedroom eyes
that whispered “bring me
to your hotel.”

we weren’t made for cheap
sex, we were poets
who felt everything down
to our souls.
it wasn’t just one night with another,
it was our lives coming together.

your smile chased me
between the streets.
your breath next to mine
will always be the one thing
that sends me off
to the sweetest dreams.

poem

The Parisian Cafe

Photo by Timea Kadar on Pexels.com

In the city of lights, the city of love, there I was
without them both idly observing passersby
outside a café one summer evening
pacing back and forth, stealing covert glances,
hoping for one to catch my eye.

Was someone out there to hold onto
or had each moment longed for escaped?

Heartbroken and alone,
the emptiness needed a fill.
In need of a drink combined with the heat
stroked the urge
to forget why I was there.

In a daze walking into that dark café,
it appeared those glances weren’t wasted.
A pair of hands slowly reached for mine
pulling me into the intimacy of the night.

Before I knew it, we were swept away
and headed back to his place.

Love bites marked a moment not soon forgotten,
a moment not to be hidden.
The marks of a lustful moment,
wantonness craved,
and a need to escape.

I was not my usual self.
I’m not always carefree.
I blame the drink and the city,
for its toxicity drowned me.

*A revision of the original poem from June 2020.

poem

A Muse

Another thing to adore
another body to explore
a muse to rouse you
right on cue

I’m more than you think
a mind,
a soul,
a bad-ass beyond control

Comfort needed for my pain
loved longing for you again
take this two steps back
unsure how to react
I’ve spilled my love for you
Now I’m angered by you

Objectified,
a muse…

poem

We Don’t Talk About That

Drifting thoughts of us strike during the long hours of the day
It’s that time once again
But we won’t talk about it now

We’ll say so much to fit in
The space between the silence
But those days where we lit up the sky,
We won’t talk about that now

Fantasies creep in
Some days, or most days,
What we’ve done behind locked doors,
Bodies exposed, breathing close
But we don’t talk about that now

Not now, not even close…

poem

Caught In The Act

Working long hours between covert exchanges abound
it becomes a late night at the office
with no one else around,
we absolve the need to be cautious

Behind the locked door,
you parade around the desk,
perch yourself closer than ever before
as your fingers reach the hem of my dress

Fingers creeping higher
as my eyes heighten with alert,
tension in the air lessens with a burning fire
developing under my skirt

Time stands still,
frozen in place
fingers begin to fill
such a sensational space

Eyes wide, locked tight
the thrill of getting entangled in the act
quickly heats up the night
as you observe how my body will soon react…