14th and Alpine Terrace

The urban treadmill of broken concrete grid
passes under my feet indifferent and cold.

The smell of incense and urine fill my senses
only to subside in jest as I breeze by the dirty Chinese buffet.

The likeness or Jesus and tired punk anarchy race across the streets.
Human squirrels dogging uncaring city traffic.

The residue of Scotch still prominent on my tongue.

The ache of tired calves burning on incline.
Steeper and steeper as I climb.

Angry fog races over roof and tree.
Attacking unwary pedestrians as they scurry
to beat the turning light.

One turn, 100 steps.
The stoop lays bare across my horizon.

Home for the moment.

Home until I’m gone.

The Scent of a Woman

Her lips fall from her cheek. Her lips leave delicate caresses moving slowly along her lovers neck. A familiar scent tempts her senses. As her nose grazes the softest parts of her neck and fills with the warmth of her skin and the scent of a woman. She stops to inhale all she can absorb. Her lover deep within her arms. She rests her chin and cheeks withing the comforting cradle between her shoulder and neck.

Laying there almost motionless she waits. Breathing gently, delicately along the depth of her lover’s neck. Just below and slightly behind her ear. Her lover quivers at the soft brushes of warm breath. She takes in slow deep breaths from her lover’s body. The scent is intoxicating. Her eyes close as she takes in the sweet, warm fragrance. A rush flows over her body as she takes breath after breath of her lover.  Together they flow within each other only aware of the other. Safe in loving embrace.

Sorry guys this is not for you. I realize men do love women as women do men. And that is all very beautiful too. But there is no comparison for what a woman can share with another woman. Our sense of smell and touch, power of emotion and depth of passion. It is beyond magical.

I sensed this from a very early age. I have never been promiscuous or even that adventurous in reality. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was circumstance, But I always noticed. I always felt it. I remember my first girlfriend well. She would leave her scent on my cloths, the notes she left me and in my mind. I could remember every detail of her and later girlfriends by remembering that fragrance. The way a woman’s skin  smells. Fresh from the shower, after a light workout, while she is making love. It is so very intoxication.

No perfumes or man-made scents can compare. There are many wonderful perfumes that enhance a woman’s unique scent. But too much and the effect is lost. I love, Adore and Desire women. I always have. I know more than ever that will never change. I am proud to be an out open lesbian.  My life has been blessed by some amazing women as frineds and lovers. Even now I cannot help but study a beautiful woman as she walks by. Not out of lust but out of sheer artistic appreciation. The female form is the most amazing thing to behold. There is beauty in all women.

The way she walks. The way she smiles, laughs, loves and cries. The way she brushes the hair from her face on a windy day. The way she turns and smiles at a passing friend. The way she lights up a room. The way she holds her infant child as she breast feeds. I admit to being an admirer of the superficial. But I love what is inside just as deep. I cannot help what I like. What I adore. None of us can. It is the way we are born. I was born to love and cherish women. And I respectfully do so with great pleasure every day.

Every once in a while that amazing scent is lifted in to the air. When you realize it on the street, in a shop or anywhere…. OMG the memories and the warmth… the desire.

I know many women are horrified at the thought of another women finding her attractive. But you should not be. I do not want to be with every woman I see or meet. Not all women are attractive in that way to me. And so it is for anyone. But there is still this undeniable beauty non-the-less. More often than not I simply enjoy the gift of admiring her beauty. I notice women. I love fashion. I can watch other women for hours on end simply enjoying how each moves or the simple silhouette in the sunlight. I capture women in my mind for inspiration. I only hope I can express my fondness for women in a meaningful and beautiful way in my art and writing.

To all women – thank you for being you. You are beautiful.

Blackjack

Playing cards with the Devil
Tricky dances of lost will and dangerous passions
Bottles of desire drawn to lips
Curious hands tempt wanting flesh
Siren’s song bleeding in ears
Crossed boundaries of violated control
Scent burning long awaited dreams
Another gasp of indulgence
Cards expose face in hand
Successive turns excite senses
A battery of stolen moments sweat form every orifice
Overwhelmed
The temptress plays her final hand
Heart, lungs, time stop
Dark flashes the moment
Thought suspended drowning  pleasures
Utter submission

Blackjack

Temptation takes it’s prize