“How sweet are those lips tonight?”
Like strawberries
#endtrans
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The Storm Chaser
08
03
10'
Somewhere inside, there she is.
In her minds eye a little girl sitting by a window seat. The glass covered in drops that move as slow, as the sky is gray.
Her chosen path in life won’t let her live that, or even show it. But there it is. Hidden in the millisecond between each word. The space between a blink and a tear.
She’ll keep pushing on. No reason to wait.
Too much to see. Too much too do. Too much to photograph.
All these pictures.
All beautiful and stunning.
From the mountains that kiss the sky, to the shadow that one breast casts over another.
Either way,
They both show the beauty of God’s hand.
A temporary muse, she questions?
Hardly.
She’s got so much to show. Now, if she’ll just share without fear.
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Lucky juice
08
03
10'
I could count backwards if my memory were that good. All those steps, all those miles. Every drop of sweat. Every time I wiped my brow clear.
Every pull.
Every push.
Every mile walked.
Flora and Fauna.
I can’t even begin to think of every type of flower that I worked my way around. The different types of grass. The multitude of trees and bushes.
and all the clovers…
Seas of green clovers.
How may 4-leafs did I cut down?
Surely that counts for something.
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Long drawn sigh
07
28
10'
I scoop up and handful of the hot bath, allowing drops to fall randomly onto your body. Candlelight reflects from the shimmering surface and bounces off your skin. I start at your neck and work my way down. Down your shoulders, down your breasts, down your abdomen. A mixture of steamy water and soap bubbles my medium.
Decorating your flesh canvas.
The transparent pointillism, that my imagination see’s.
Kissing your neck, I erase my art with the edge of my hand;
and start over.
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The Extended Birthday Week™
07
21
10'
Beach towns in Michigan, and too many grape vines and wineries to count. Sand below my feet, and a fresh tattoo to look at. Cool winds, tall sails, and water as far as I can see.
Off to Detroit with two homeboys. Iron Maiden and Dream Theater, and a venue that was most excellent. Good times, great people, and righteous friends.
Saunter over to Chicago. Now, here is a town I could live in. Huge buildings, endless shopping, water, beaches, art, museums, music-music-music. Another night of Iron Maiden and Dream Theater. Swanky hotel right on the water, and a fistful of cash to burn.
Good times my friend. Good times.
Normally I would feel guilty about such pleasures.
Not this time.
</sweet>
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