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Dancing by myself
wearing my favorite jeans and an itty bitty shirt
and jasmine perfume
with the music so loud
watching myself reflected in the window
and my shadow on the floor
because there's nobody else around
and it feels good to be me.
But then you're here
and our bodies once as sure as twining snakes
full of elbows and knees
and blind mistakes
my rhythm is gone
the music lost in meaningless noise.
Your eyes find mine
and your hands guide my hips
into a new rhythm
gentler than the first
guide me to a music quieter
that only we can hear
and we are nothing but two vines
growing on the same tree
indistinguishable from each other.
Then you're gone and by myself again
Wearing dirty jeans and your green sweatshirt
that still smells like you
The music pounding out of the speakers so loud
the floor shivers
where my foot counts the beat
biding my time
until we can dance together again.
beneath my dark leaves
beware the thorns
sweet ruby clusters
skin tight and shiny
as rich as the earth I grow in
as sweet as the sun that feeds me
every drop of juice
as precious as the dawn
all you can carry
spread my children
I have given them all I can
GwainGwain tiptoed out of the house into the gray-pink of early dawn, clutching the small, sharp mother-of-pearl handled knife she had purchased the night before.
A pleasant tight feeling of nervous anticipation filled her body as she set out at the slow trot she could keep up for miles, her long braid smacking against her tan back.
She hadn't gone looking for a job, not really.
She, like many other poor kids, had discovered that people threw coins into the ocean by the dock for children to dive and retrieve.
It wasn't her fault if she was really good at it.
There were few afternoons she couldn't be found wearing nothing but an old faded pair of shorts sitting on the dock waiting for someone to toss a coin. She knew that if her mother found out she would be in big trouble, but the docks were a long ways away from her mother's house, and she wouldn't have any spending money at all if she didn't dive.
And besides, begging was better than stealing.
It had been an afternoon like any other, she
To Anyone ListeningI'll be the thunderstorm in your night sky
If you'll just be the moon
Churning my ocean tides
Or I'll be the moon
If you'll be the solid earth
I can orbit around
I'll be a jasmine flower
And scent the night with love for you
If you'll be the rain
To keep me alive
I'll be a seedling
And grow in your love
If you'll be my sun
And warm the soil for me
I'll be yours
If you'll be mine
And love me
I'll love you forever and after
If you'll just be here
When I'm so lonely
And I'll be the thunderstorm in your night sky
If you'll come
And be with me
IronmanHear me read it
My friends used to call William "Ironman" because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We'd only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion... I remember that when we were forced to take sex ed a few years later we were divided into separate classes for boys and girls, in case a diagram of an ovary was too risqué and we became animalistic and started clawing at each other in our seats, but nonetheless when our teacher Ms Jacobs had explained to us what an erection was in my mind all I could picture was the blood rushing to his nose and then the slash of cranberry across my blouse.
With the idea planted in his mind it didn't take long for William's hands to start wandering, but the image persisted. Every time I thought about just letting it happen I wondered what would happen if he got too excite
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More