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Uncurl Me

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Cocooned in a safety

with the softness of a

thousand white feathers,

I lie awake in my sleep.

There’s a warmth in the colours

that shoot stars

in the mist of consciousness,

enveloping life

with a seductive smile.

The fingers of slumber

caress, trace duplicitous

lines along my spine,

arousing my voice forward

into light.

In the tangle of sheets, a

quietness.

An awakening. Stirring hearts

stain stirring lips.

Heat washes over

comfort’s sands, with a kiss

like this…

So uncurl me. Gently

taking twilight’s time.

Just as the night has, the day,

open eyes.

Me, Myself and I


That’s me, over there.
Looking at myself as I walk
through and see both of them.
We are us and make up
this unholy trinity.

Me is watching a documentary;
fascinated at the lion taking
down the buffalo with effortless
skill. Her feet are
content in huge bear-feet
slippers, with menacing claws.
She notices I and is
jealous.

I am walking through the Sitting
Room
as good as I can be. Rouge
lips and tousled hair. Lingering
cherry blossoms follow
the heels that will soon be
walking, to meet the man that
makes us all swoon at his feet.

Myself is aware of me but is ignoring
the eyes that desperately try
to catch her attention. I
make it easier for myself
by stealing the limelight
leaving her to hide in the shadows
in the corner of the room; thinking
thoughts that she will never share.

I yell at me to buy some new pyjamas
because nobody looks good in flannelette.
The nagging falls on deaf ears, with a girl
like me. She tells her to shush
her finger pressed firmly to her lip.
This is the best part.

I ask myself to concur but receive
no reply
as always. Annoyed, I walk out into
the night and live
whilst me does what comes naturally.

And all the while; silently
rocking in the darkness
counting on her fingers, in between
scribbling out the ideas. The answers.
She works out what is best for us.
All by myself.

Reality.

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Is it the seeing in the believing
Or the belief that opens eyes?

The truth that brings a meaning
or the lies that keep it kind?

You said to write it up there
put my name up in the sky.

I etched it in the sand instead.
The tears swelled in my eyes.

The sea ate up the letters
and washed me all away.

And time will now forget her
Try again some other day.

So now I’m sat here waiting
for the tide to bring me back.

To make sure that I’m remembered
for all those little things I lack.

Introducing…


I am the slithers of suggestion, drizzled drip by drip
drenching consciousness with
desire.

I am the fire that ferments deep in the darkest parts
of your person, lighting the fuse.
Stimulating your power.

I am a warrior fighting abstinence.
Poisoning you
with tickling intoxication.

And I am blood.
Swelling the senses
with a delicious, viscous temptation.

The whisper of arousal at your ear,
I am sensuality.
Talking in tongues . Fantasy
infiltrating reality

Provocative.

I am the hunger in your eyes.
The greed.
Your need for satisfaction.

Sexuality.

I am.

Erotica.

**This was written as a voice and to that end, I decided to record it as a spoken piece. Check out my post, Introducing…In Audio, here:
introducing…in audio

Or don’t! I hate to rob a reader of interpretation.