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LOVE is such a lost art. The “making of it” part. The seduction before getting there is lost in my book of bleeding diaries. It’s not necessarily the act of sex: with things like boffing, plunging or banging your mate. Anyone can fornicate between the wrinkled sheets. What I am referring to is the ecstasy of lips to lips as they speak to another in lascivious fluidity. With the fornication of fingers to fingers or black marker to soft flesh which create a mused obedience towards another. There are so very few people who even understand the roused rhythm of just this little ounce of thrilling decadence. The delicious essence of words.

Even the driving force of conception and sexual innuendos are highly saturated all around us, like bees to dripping honey ready to sting when exposed; in glossy magazines, unrated late night television pilots, Vegas billboards.. one can be over consumed with the frenzied view of pornographic skin in mid flight of imagination. It’s like your sticky fingers are caught in the hive penetrating a translucent liquid of orgasmic sugared cum. Fingerprinting where your tips of desire have been. Leaving a mark on your consciousness that won’t wash off easily. Strangely, what I have realized with flipping through page after page of imagery stimulation of an individual’s life, is that very few know the essence of mental flirtation.

The pen to ink stimulation of it all is what I am interested in. And as the generations spread even further with anxiously open legs, these mortals can barely understand the titillating excitement towards using the expression of a sensual vocabulary to get a rise. With this said, I do remember a profound man whom I fell in love with in my early 20’s when I was on the set of a movie in Upstate New York. He was mysteriously captivating with a Shakespearian tongue of verbalization, which translated to a heavy penetration through my bones of obsession on paper and off. To my surprise, almost 23 years later he expressed a tongue of allurement my way. Something simply pleasing in which I would like to share.

the map of your body
Posted in Uncategorized on August 13, 2009 by PoeticScream

i wonder what it would feel like when i draw felt markers over your body
how the tip would feel as i drew long sinewy lines from one sensual spot to another
if i drew a marker through the crevice of your thigh and leg
and made it come to a pressure point on the side of your swollen pussy lips
if i drew a thin line and then made it thicker by pressing deeper
if i made concentric circles as a punctuation point around your nipples and areola
if i decided to color your clit with a glossy black marker
if i flicked it over your clit and made it shiny black…….and kept at it…..
if you swelled and your hips pushed to my hand
if the feeling of markers tickled you and made you moan
if i ran a marker gently past your ear and down your throat to your belly
if the marker swirled around your pussy and i ran it gently down past the lips
if it reached your asshole and i played it around and around the opening
if it never reached anywhere but the opening
i wonder what it would it feel like when i draw felt markers over your body

the map of your body
Thursday, August 13, 2009 9:38 PM

for Zuky, written by Tony