you make me
shiver
shudder
shake
you make me
scream
squeal
squirm
you make me
writhe in pain
beg for mercy
pray for more
you make me
bellow loudly
give completely
whimper softly
you make me
want it
wet and
wanton
you make me
come harder
go further
stay longer
you make me
naked
cherished
safe
you
make
me
Inside of sinews and bone, an adventure is unfolding, unfurling, revealing itself. I climb into the space between our words, waiting to be discovered. Wooing his demons, dancing around them, tempting them further and further into the open. Into the light.
I rest for a moment in the eye of the hurricane as he circles me, contemplating.
He’s a hunter on safari within his own mind, stalking monsters that live in the shadows, catching them one-by-one. But not to slay them, no; to try them on. To slip into their skins and inhabit their ferocity.
The mischievous glint in his eyes warns me a new creature is springing to life, taking shape inside him. I can’t help shivering at the slow curve of his savage smile. It’s slightly exciting, somewhat arousing, and completely terrifying.
I suspect this unknown animal has sharp teeth. Vicious claws that poke and scratch. A rough tongue and a menacing growl, along with the softest fur and a comforting purr. He considers me with crazed bloodlust, yet inflicts his sweet tortures with swiftly calculated precision, always holding something back. I can see the battle behind his eyes: does he trust me enough to let go? Does he trust himself?
I take a deep breath and let my body settle into position, back arched, bottom pushed up and out, inviting. I look at him over my shoulder, wordlessly giving him permission to let loose, praying he will unleash himself. Hoping today is the day I finally meet the beast.
Oh Portland, this is why I love you so. Saw most of the lunar eclipse last night, and then on the way home…
fire burning underneath
light expanding from heat
waiting, wanting
knowing
when it happens
it will be deliberate
I have orphaned my earrings all over town
left them abandoned
in hotels and bedrooms
and Fred Meyer parking lots
one half of every pair paid
the price of admission
the cost of a stranger’s hands in my hair
single studs and lone bangles
now have awkward first dates
in my jewelry box
while their mates languish, forgotten
in ballrooms and gutters
I ran across this a while ago, and it still gets me. If you search Neil Hilborn on YouTube, he has a bunch of performance poetry clips.
this is how I memorize
the sculpture of your body
fingers mapping skin
this is how I take you in
with lips against your collarbone
kisses up your spine
teeth sunken into flesh
this is how I cross the line
in little leaps and bounds
over walls and under nets
this is how I’ll measure you
in pleasure and regret
this is how I disappear
into little white lies and words unspoken
in bits and pieces
and promises broken
this is how I go
in the blue hours of the early morning
quietly
and without warning