This Daffodil

This daffodil wants to play

She wants to feel the sun on her skin

The rain on her hair, she wants to laugh with glee

Sugar, spice and honeybee. She wants the joy, the pain

and laughing in the rain.

She enjoys being spanked, or slapped or liking it rough.

She wants you and she wants you a lot. Think about that buster!!


Feed it, fuel it, succumb to it. But the hunger doesn’t subside. It intensifies

needing, clawing on my sleek skin. With every arch of my back, he thrust even deeper. I could feel my velvety folds getting sleeker, but the hunger for more doesn’t stop. I met his thrust with my hips and my legs wide open to receive him. I can’t explain how much I want him. How much hunger for his lips and how deep my craving for him.


You come to me in bits and pieces

a glimpse as fast as lightning

such fleeting moments in my dreams.

You speak to me in rainbows and moonbeams

I hear you on cloudy days in distorted language

of rain and thunderstorms.

You capture my attention like snowflakes hitting the window pane

You hold my heart so delicately in your hands and I long to see the depth of your soul.

Fleeting moments


I wanna moan your name

gently into the night

while your lips burn mine

your scent take a permanent residency

on my bed sheets

your name inhabits

the very core of my body

the heat… oh the heat

I wanna moan your name gently into the night… -justme62 -photo by pixabay


Dozens of rough draft and crumpled papers

strewn across the floor. Still drunk on whiskey

eyes puffy from keeping the night company.

Attempting to write a decent poetry

thoughts of you keep popping in and out of my head.

Both sweet and candid moments we just had few days ago

still stuck in my brain. I don’t think the April rain will

wash all of them away.

I could continue washing your memories off of my thoughts…

I asked myself why?… why trying to steer clear from thinking of you. For now I do not

know the answer to that. I just want to keep writing and come up with a beautiful poetry. I want to have a love affair with my thoughts, paper and my pen.


She, who is not afraid of danger

light in her feet, a dancer a phaser

as if she has wings to flutter away

somewhere safer than there.

He, who is addicted to the flutter of her dark eyelashes

palms always open to welcome her

when she returns.


Think of it in the rain

in the silence of midnight

a subtle sensation on your skin

perfumed by a blossoming flower.

Each raindrops leading you

into the dawning light

the verdant illusion

drawing you to the simmering heat.


Feed your desire

every chance you get

Focus on the illusion

of your want

Ignore the white noise in your head

keep feeding your desire

the fire that gets you going…