Mornings with You

Collect my love puddles and recycle them back to me

Puddles from the sweat behind my knees, praying you and I will be.

Clutch the emerald rosary

between our fangs.

Pain lingers 

And that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Sink them deep, my crimson cabernet is yours to keep

Slackline on the silverlining to the highest star

Bring me back to my body

Only you,

The keeper of my puddles, my crimson, my heart.

-Words by Jasmine Duran and Luiz Castro

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The Threesome

The first man kisses my cheek and works down to my lips in a collected and slow motion. He is soft, his intentions clearly thought out. I turn around and face the second man. The second man pulls me with the firm grip of his hands around my neck, insistent and aggressive. The first man still caresses my neck with his lips while I share breath with the second. 

Switch. 

A ying and yang of sexual partners, one on each of my sides.

The two men share and begin to slip off clothing. I allow them to do the same to me. More than sex, deep passion and pain rolls from tongue to tongue, sharing their silent scream. Our bodies switch, ever shifting, quickly panting, position to position calling out pleasure. Four hands glide through sweat across my breasts and down my pelvis. The first man kisses. I want more. The second one holds a hand across my throat, a pleasurable pain. I do not resist. This wave of bodies opens my soul, releases the wolves and reminds me how hungry I’ve been. 

Man: a healthy meal.

I am full 

tonight.

Secret Affair

The night that we shared cannot be replaced.

A hiccup in time, a change of our fate

A secret affair that I cannot face.

 

We met at the party and had some drinks

I had grazed your body, then held your cheek.

The night that we shared cannot be replaced.

 

We exchanged numbers and laughed at others

I felt a connection, but was it real?

A secret affair that I cannot face.

 

Your body, your touch, the sensation I felt

At three in the morning our bodies raced.

The night that we shared cannot be replaced.

 

A passion never to be felt again.

Oh, your kiss! How I wish this were all real!

A secret affair that I cannot face.

 

I leave in the morning, before dawn speaks

Go down the stairs and head back to my place.

The night that we shared cannot be replaced

A secret affair that I cannot face.

My dreams, not yours

From the bottom of my heart, all I have wanted from you was you. But you didn’t have the courage to follow through. Didn’t allow me a picture of us two, a baby and a dog Moo, a house with a porch too. 

You didn’t see my dreams come true. You hated how I invisioned my future, called it poo. Believed in your own coo. Believed in your friends too. Just not me. Not what I believe. Make me your enemy so that I may see defeat. So that I might take the heat for you never loving me. 

He taught her pleasure

​He loved her so easily he wiped away her hurt with the back of his index finger as it slid down her cheek. He kissed the doubt down her neck. Pulled in her pride when she took a step back. Draped her in compliments when she covered her thighs. Taught her to push. Taught her to pull. He poisoned her with passion she had never felt before. Pure, raw, passion that slid down her thighs in wet waves equal to heartbeats. She lifted herself into happiness, but he showed her the need for more.