14 lines, not a sonnet

You pleasure me in a thousand waysWe begin, and there's no telling where it'll goYou see the most secret faces, rouse dreams that have lain dormant before I give in to your hands like the potter's claypliable, to be moulded, to be shapedYou reveal my soul to myself each dayYou pleasure me in a thousand… Continue reading 14 lines, not a sonnet

Ishaisms, Poetry

Cusp of a Kiss

Never again will the same sandy shore be treaded upon oblivious to the crowds of sunbathers and poets. Never again shall the salty sea breeze blow past this northern terrain or mistletoes be gathered prematurely by the suspecting Cupid! It's run its course - whate'er it was - a blue moon, a passing storm... We'll… Continue reading Cusp of a Kiss