The Exchange

I took some of your burden. To create a space to place myself. To create a space for me to breathe To place my late night fears But you overflowed I couldn’t keep up Too many Too much Too few Fair exchange is no robbery But this wasn’t fair. There was no exchange. I carried … More The Exchange


“I thought the world would revolve without us,” the singer sang The world demanded them their time their energy their gifts But in each other, they created a space only penetrable by a shared heartbeat Breathes slowed Stressed eased Spirits whispered With the kiss of lips, phones forgotten Waking up to fifteen messages and three … More Revolving

The Neighbors

The scent was always the same. If she preparing a seduction for him, she sprayed herself with this indescribable perfume. It had citrus and musk and wafted through the vent to my condo. If it was spontaneous, I usually heard a deep bass whispering in Kreole although I never knew what his words meant. To … More The Neighbors

Tu me manques

I knew I would miss you before I said goodbye. I knew I would spend the night crying and listening to her sing “I won’t pretend.” I knew all I wanted was your voice in my ear while my arms held you and to kiss you good morning. I knew I would wonder if you … More Tu me manques


I want to devour you Sit on top of your lips Thighs choking you Drown you until you can’t breathe anything except me Ride your tongue until it hurts Ferocious on your dick Thrashing my legs until I cum once twice three times My release vicious Leaving you hard and helpless Ravage you Peel back … More Savage


Much respect to bell hooks, but she has it wrong. At it’s core, aren’t love’s extremes are a violent vortex of peace and of passion? Violent emotions that exist perfectly balanced in the chaos of paradox. Violence that makes us act irrationally – willing to give up our lives to protect those we love or … More Transformation

Used to be

I used to be a poet Until I fell in love I used to be a poet And dream about putting you into haikus Singing sonnets about your smiles Iambic pentameter about your interactive love and rhymes I used to be a poet And use the colors of the rainbow to describe you Your skin … More Used to be

The Poet

He made me return to writing poetry. When we talked, it wasn’t violins that played, but sonnets that whispered on his lips. I could feel the letters moving in my heart, not yet taking shape but there, waiting to be released. He had been everything I asked for. And yet… We were here. Letters, locked. … More The Poet