Apparently i have decided that I am an android and i shall never need sleep again...
Last week i was swamped- between Footwear, cupcakes, cookies, and Big Girl duties, I slept LITERALLY 20 hours all week. THIS week, my happy butt thought it would be a great idea to take on 27 catering jobs, start another business, be a Big Girl and try to marry one of The Boys. Saturday night and last night i rolled in at 2 in the morning, like I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO AT 2 IN THE MORNING. "That peace that sleep begets" hath not touched my soul in almost a month and I am feelin it lemme tell you. I keep telling myself to just push through one more frantic night of baking, flirting or planning and then I'll take a break, but do I?
No. That would be SANE.
Off to do more work. Writing this blog entry just robbedme of 3 and a half minutes of sleep.
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Welcome. If you want truth, you just passed it. This is Idealism.
Whispers of Temptation
I, much concerned with life
Saw the skull beneath the skin
And lustful creatures all around
Lean forward with lips full and grin.
Dead brown roots instead of balls
Drain the attention of wandering eyes
He knew my rambuncitious thoughts
Called in by lusts and luxeries.
He, I guessed, was a hands-on learner
Who could control not his fervor
To seize.
And force.
And dictate.
Calmed by nothing but that which penetrates
His flesh knew not patience,
His hand an expert beyond experience,
My body not yet a temple,
And I, quickly lead by harsh desires.
* * *
Summer was nice : The extreme heat
Gave way to naked skin
For short, but sweet unknown release
Giving fruitless promises of bliss.
From a chaise lounge, One can see a world.
Observing, planning, asserting.
Scheming.
Mouth-watering.
From which he pounced; and with quick declaration.
"I lust for you"
A force on my subtlty.
Even the slightest hint
Aroused a deeper cry
For flames that danced between
To keep the empty warm.
On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur, l'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.- Antoine de Saint-Exupery, Le Petit Prince
Writing Baltimore.
Welcome. If you want truth, you just passed it. This is Idealism.
Me, Playing Poet.
Whispers of Temptation
I, much concerned with life
Saw the skull beneath the skin
And lustful creatures all around
Lean forward with lips full and grin.
Dead brown roots instead of balls
Drain the attention of wandering eyes
He knew my rambuncitious thoughts
Called in by lusts and luxeries.
He, I guessed, was a hands-on learner
Who could control not his fervor
To seize.
And force.
And dictate.
Calmed by nothing but that which penetrates
His flesh knew not patience,
His hand an expert beyond experience,
My body not yet a temple,
And I, quickly lead by harsh desires.
* * *
Summer was nice : The extreme heat
Gave way to naked skin
For short, but sweet unknown release
Giving fruitless promises of bliss.
From a chaise lounge, One can see a world.
Observing, planning, asserting.
Scheming.
Mouth-watering.
From which he pounced; and with quick declaration.
"I lust for you"
A force on my subtlty.
Even the slightest hint
Aroused a deeper cry
For flames that danced between
To keep the empty warm.
Labels
- Ex-Lovers Undercovers and with a New twist (48)
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Appearance should not be mistaken for Truth...
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Quelque chose que j'épargne juste pour vous.
- Louise
- Something more, a little less, and just all around satisfying. A small lyrical, satirical, heart felt, heart melt with a cherry on top for you and your mom.
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