Mother2rah’s Weblog

Fragile Connections

Blue veins criss-cross across, sketch life’s pattern

through me – in and out of heart muscle, skim

the smooth surface, detour areola,

outline nipple, as they accentuate

the fullness of my breasts. Follow their path.

With kisses, plot their course from beginning

to end.  Find safe passage to my deepest

desires. With the tips of your fingers,

find their source and explore the depths of me

mapped out for your adventure; a journey

over the soft hills and down the valley–

an entrance in to the cradle of life.

Relish this fragile connection between

we two, both travelers, both familiar

with the treasure held within this body.

When with You

I feel you - inside - not the physical
hot, hardness of you, but the gentleness,
the soft tenderness whispering to me
when you hold me close enough to breathe in.
 
I want you - inside - the physical heat
that pulses in time with both our heartbeats;
your eyes caressing me, words unspoken
between us speak volumes - what, we can’t say.
 
Caught in my throat, unsafe emotions choke;
I beg for their release.  You brush my cheek
freeing the passion I hold so tightly.
One touch of your lips on mine - I am lost.
 
I know I could cry with you - for you, love
and laugh, rant and rave - I could be just - me.

Mystery Enough

My toes buried in the fresh grass, I think
of times not yet spent tangled together
moments when the world disappears, it’s just
us - two people unfamiliar after
all these years of knowing one another.
 
What secrets remain hidden inside you
for me to find - are they anything close
to those I keep locked securely in me?
And what temptation can I provide you
to reveal yourself? What can I offer
in return for your trust - a piece of me
not already promised? You can have it
all - I want no more secrets between us -
this passion serves as mystery enough.

Look Up

We never look up - anymore.
Our eyes are glued to the surface,
the ground below our feet
where each day we tread carefully
the same steps
one foot in front of the other,
just as we were taught.

Does anyone teach their children
to skip or whistle anymore;
that it’s ok to laugh out loud
and smile for no particular reason at all? 
We worry too much
about what
everyone else is thinking.
We need to look up
once in a while.
See the sunshine
and the clouds;
feel wind and rain and life.

Stepping into the Bath

When stormy brews in the blue of his eyes
I hear thunder roll through my body and know
rain and lightning approach to bathe me;
ecstasy in my forecast as the clouds build high
along the western edges of my awareness.

My body dampens with the droplets, dew
moist and warm as one front meets the other.
I toss my head back, and so exposed,
offer myself up, no sacrifice, to pleasure.
His tempest cleanses my soul, immersed
in his desire, I am purified from the inside - out.

Generations are born in this passion’s maelstrom.

Pulse of Persuasion

I feel it deep within,
that pulse, throb of something
forbidden - I have no name
for it, yet feel it lurk inside.

The hiss of a whisper echoes
around my ears, tempting me
to find out where this lure
could lead - an illicit place
of what? no word I know
captures this enticement.

I snake my hands down
my belly, test the pull
to make contact, to feel, to experience
the stroke of flesh on flesh.

The contact electrifies
at first touch, it is almost over-
I remember to breathe
and feel the pleasure pull back,
slow down, expand through me
until I find the words - guttural and true…

I must remember to share passion with Adam.

1.

Cold snaps bring the pain
April showers killing me
Rain, rain go away

2.

It creeps up my spine
wrapped firmly around my hips
winter shifts to spring

3.

Spring blossoms enthrall
sunshine melts frost to water
nourishes us all

4.

The ache of winter
relinquishes to sunshine
control of my soul

5.

Spring fever has me
firmly in his grasp, I faint
fall into your arms

6.

How does sadness stretch
alongside red tulip blooms
drops of spent passion

7.

Pain muddled mind slips
I cannot remember you
have we met before

8.

Advil and Aspirin
Aleve and Excedrin
Spring is really here

9.

Without any words
whispers between the silence
how do we know love?

10.

Pieces of me hurt
I can feel the healing start
when you touch me so

11.

Passion drips as rain
nurtures fresh growth in us both
renewal-again

12.

We need to mow, mulch
cultivate our lives to grow
beyond where we are

13.

Pink-tipped tulips blush
between green leaves they’re hidden
as fresh as new love

14.

In the face of of pain
ice cold and heat relax me
I survive it all

Tasting Passion

Tiptoeing around, afraid of breaking
an already precarious balance;
sensing a change in the tension that is
tied to who we are and what we want to
investigate in this life, so certain
neither of us is fully aware of
giving too little - or even too much -

passion for that which we find important.
All our focus centers on the now - here,
somehow ignoring - or avoiding - the
scary parts of love - lust - and life. Seeing
instead the wonder of where we are. Each
open to the newness, even though it’s
no longer new to other eyes - just ours.

Love As It Is

I sit, soak in sunshine, a way to cleanse
myself - burn away those pieces for which
I’ve no use, not caring about others -
what they might want - not today or ever.

Skin blisters and I feel no pain on the
surface or deep inside - just a freeing
of my spirit, a return to some place
long forgotten - a time of happiness.

Tears drip, scald this burnt facade, erasing
the tracks of misplaced passion, sealing off
the sorrow once felt as elation - now
gone - I have stripped myself of such folly.

Eventually, this red flesh will bronze,
relaxing into life - love as it is.

Ready for Release

Want drips down these walls, imprisons me in
space too small for comfort-because you’re near.
Desire filters through this sheer fabric
billowing against my limbs; arousal
blushes flesh from pale pink to lush crimson.

Heat radiates into every corner.
Sex scents saturate the air between us;
we are spent without ever having touched.
Our bodies soaked with sweat; our minds reeling
from the possibilities, we reach out.

Familiar awakenings begin to
color the space where we connect, stoking
the fires we’ve banked - never having time
before now, again, ready for release.