Another One For Today

Painful Senryu


I.
You've left me tattered
On the inside while leaving
The outside pristine.

II.
Like the ocean's calm
Surface, with raging currents
Just below.

III.
So much is brewing
Just beyond prying strangers'
Eyes. Turmoil all mine.

IV.
It's almost funny
To see you concerned with the
Horrid aftermath.

V.
I'd crack a Cheshire
Smile if I thought I'd manage
To avoid sneering.

VI.
My face would betray
Me though. Being directly
Stitched to brokenness.

VII.
I've not yet learned the
Useful art of hiding my
Overwhelming feels.

VIII.
Don't look too long into
The churning pools of distress
Lest you join me.

IX.
It's not a place I
Wish for anyone. Move on
Far away from here.

X.
Better yet, you may
Wanna keep on going far
Far away from me.

Copyright © 2013 Natasha Guy

Early Morning Leaking

Smoke Signals

Dousing cotton candy dreams in 

An inferno of liquid sorrows.
This is what romanticizing 

Without protection leads to.

But I am resilient; previous
Beautiful blazes prove it.

I've learned exactly how far to
Stand back in mourning while
Glowing embers create
Choreographed reflections in my eyes.

And love's charred corpse
Prevents frostbite on my heart.

Again, I return to witness
The rebirth of the phoenix.
I cast my eyes downward,
Apologetic as she rises.

For I am the one who led her
To yet another fiery demise.

All of the pain involved,
Each tear turned to steam,
Every scream that erupted,
I know that I caused them.

I can't truly apologize because
I have not one regret at all.

I'd still lead her into battle,
Risking it all, for the chance
To experience even the most
Minute sense of endearment.

You don't build Love Eternal by
Fearing dips in the deep end.

Baptizing the soul thoroughly,
Cleansing it of disappointment,
It is my duty to encourage newly
Formed wings to take flight.

Life without love just isn't living.
Without a new heart, it isn't forgiving.

©2013 NLGuy

First Fruits of February

Cravings 

My fingers long to take a stroll across chocolate skin, reading the goosebumps that rise like Braille.

My lips yearn to trace the contours of strong shoulders, tasting the flavor of lust that sits upon them.

My tongue desires to surround the glistening flesh of arousal as it grows hard and ready.

I feel the need to verify that I can elicit indistinguishable moans and groans from places hidden deep within.

It's imperative to practice the long forgotten art of causing waves of pleasure to ripple through a man's able body.

Reminding myself how to gently caress his throbbing hunger for release until it spills over into ecstasy is the only way to satisfy the question nagging at the back of my mind...

Can I still bring a man to his knees and make his toes curl before my clothes hit the floor?


Copyright © 2013 Natasha Guy