The Dancer, The Priestess

What say You to a mermaid in the Sea?

Her love is like Jocelyn’s Backwards Priest

One foot tip toe in front of the other

Let the Dancer meet Her Beast

You know that You can have Me

You know that You can’t have Me


Wise, tread into Her Peace

It is okay

Sleep on Me

Watch Her fly in Your dreams

For every reason She is not

Three reasons She must be


Keota Picou

Let It Drip

Their prudent foot steps meet under a lamppost. But she wonders if the night’s breeze nudged her there. Any other night would have been easy, but neither of them are ready for the walk. He states a greeting to which she replies with diffidence. So he steps closer. With one inch inbetween them, a chill escapes her. He takes the traditional cue to hold her arms, bringing it into a hug. Familiar. 

She considers reaching for his throat to hold tight to. Instead, she caresses his nape. His sweet nothings slips into her ears. And she let’s them. She need it to hold on to, much like the embrace his gives in this moment. 

Let’s just kiss, She says.

And with that, she’s said all of what she needed to.

With instinct, looking into his flame like eyes, she licks his lips a part to kiss. The need to explain exactly how she feels becomes the single most important goal. She wonders how can he overstand her unless her core speaks? He returns it with passion. This kiss is wetter than usual. The taste of copper fills their mouths. She let’s go to watch his blood flow. 

Let it drip, he tells her.

So she watches his picture show. Tempted to fall back in, she glares at the drip flow.

In My Tree,

Owl

This Love. This Romance.

Rainy days are the best in my mind. There’s an abundance of peace and power that it brings. The ultimate balance. It reminds me of love and romance. 

This love, this romance is anything but normal. But I often wonder, Is love normal? 

Love, at times, hurts to the bone. Often from missing someone while they’re gone. Romance tickles the skin. Well, to me that’s how it feels. 

Rain also reminds me of the power of being single and free. Waking up with myself. Cupping my breasts then raking my fingers through my hair. I stretch within my satin sheets feeling every ounce of fulfillment. Feeling grateful for a peaceful rest. Waking up to Rain reminds me how amazing it feels to love myself.

A soothing storm. It’s home to me.

In My Tree,

Owl