“Vanilla ice cream melts down my wrist as my lips melt all over yours.”

I built these walls around me to shelter you from my hurricane mind. Now I must weather the storm alone.

Double up, baby. Your lips are the song and the dance floor is our bed.

Travel through the stars with me in my nostalgic dream of summer nights, white wine, and sleeping under nature’s canopy.

She’s a child of war. Stronger than a bomb with a lioness’s roar.

Mirrors are used in magic to distort what we see. They are the love child of illusion, lies, tragedy.

She loathes her body but covers it in sequins. Attempts at self-love.

An old song; a whiff of perfume; nostalgia let’s me time travel back to you.

Like a wild cat in the Serengeti, I land on my feet and transcend reality.

The photo of me they choose to print when I die -Thoughts at 4 a.m

Kiss my wine-drenched mouth and drown in drunk temptations offered by the night.

The body is but a vessel to carry the soul. A container ship to protect it as it passes through this world.

Bake at any time. Lick the chocolate from the bowl. Lessons from my Nan.

I remember the stillness of the night when I met darkness for the first time.  Whispering gently in my ear “It’s time to come home”

My mind is loud but endless evanescent thoughts stay trapped in silence.

Pink dress, chestnut curls. A picture of innocence before life stole her.

If your thighs touch, don’t be scared. They are just kissing; it’s a love affair.