Oh, my divine, sweet love!
Oh, how you burn for me!
Your loveth steams so hot.
Your breath burns my lips.
Oh, my sweet kettle of love.
Oh, my hot teabag activator.
My sweet tea cosy covered.
My lovely kettle of kindness.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
Oh, my divine, sweet love!
Oh, how you burn for me!
Your loveth steams so hot.
Your breath burns my lips.
Oh, my sweet kettle of love.
Oh, my hot teabag activator.
My sweet tea cosy covered.
My lovely kettle of kindness.
Steam from the engine of your heart erupts into the atmosphere forcefully.
Dreaming of the touch so filthy and frozen that only Caligula would understand.
Beaming with bottle bright blue and green hues, you think of the touch.
Themes of dark and dew-drenched hell and hurt turn you on so much.
The Dream theatre is so hot and humid.
In the fridge of your mind, your house has different levels of fear.
The freezer houses those things you lock up inside, while the cold section houses those visions and memories you wish you could forget.
Now the freezer is being defrosted, and your worst fears must be faced.
You start to disintegrate as water drips through the fridge and pools outside the door.
You had to turn the fridge off one day and face those fears.
Broken pieces of you
sit around the house.
Coat hangers,
lint,
and
kitty litter
share your space.
Open to no one and nothing,
you disintegrate, or worse still,
remain for the vacuum cleaner.
We agree to pull the old couch out that we’ve had for years.
I prepare the movie, and you shake the drinks.
I turn the lights down low, and you arrange the nibbles.
Full of love for each other, we celebrate our love and the many years we have spent together.
Adding sherry to chicken
is like adding your sweet
words to my day.
The taste is so smooth
and sweet.
Smashing saucepans in the air.
Running,
Fluttering,
Humming,
and
Mumbling,
here,
there,
and
everywhere.
The washing machine
of my
life keeps fucking with
my clothes.
Getting down to the beat
in the bathtub.
Water is splashing
everywhere.
I kick my toe on the tap.
AHHHHHH!
Rubbing against the silky oak
table feels like
rubbing my face against
the underside of your
arm; so smooth.