20 August 2016


am new. Rediscovered. 
Found in your words, your sweet attentiveness - your lust for life. 

I am wild, soft, and so alive, in the arms of your thoughts, that stark, masculine poetry, the hours that you seek me, again and again... 

I am woman, mind, body and soul, gentled by your strength, and yet so savage in the dark of your need. 

For Only Me

It is always joy. 
I see his face and I am glowing, aching from not having smiled in joy for so long. 

For a time, I can be lost, naked, and burning, 
wrapped in the softness of his words; 
I am deaf to all else but the tenderness of 
that touch. 

A poem, made for me. 
Made for only me.


It's like a dark corridor, no doors, no lights, 
and all you can hear is the sound of your own footsteps. 
Just the constant soft tread as you walk alone, 
down the same, long corridor. 
Over and over again, until it feels like you're walking on the spot. 
Nothing changes. Except you. 

A Girl and Her Guitar

Sometimes I think I went a little too far,
From everything that used to be      
A girl and her guitar;
Ridin' with the wind, a Little Wing,
A Highway Chile,
Just playing my way down 
The long and lonely mile,
And carrying nothing with me,
But my guitar, my heart and my smile.... 

In A Word

Soft simple words. 
As though the words that he used were to touch my skin, 
the same gentleness of his hands, his caress, his lips.. 
A slow-burning desire that, in moments, broke apart walls that had taken years to build....