Sexual Musings :: Chainmail

There is something stirring within you, awakening at the changing fragrance of the wind; a subtle shift in your heart, a trembling purpose awaiting your arrival. And I know you’re afraid. Above you are lightning strikes like glass castles in the sky. Below you are trembling roots, moaning hollow melodies. Your skin is violin strings, […]

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Sexual Musings :: Birches

Adrift, caught between: “I am a strong woman.” and “I am a soft woman.” Two mighty Goliaths battling for space in the mist laden forest of my heart- one set of branches swinging toward rushing, white-capped water, the other protecting the firm ground beneath her twisting, grapevine roots. I close my eyes and can feel […]

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#Prompt Post :: Flowers

There’s vines at your feet, delicate and green as emeralds- but above you? A castle of opal walls, shining like rainbow fire in the midday sun. Your clumsy fingertips, coaxing sleepy skin to rise and reach, are stained violet with wild phlox and lilac petals. Imagine a world where your heart wasn’t black obsidian and […]

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Sexual Musings :: Tough

Leaning against the bar, I tapped a gentle rhythm along his arm: “I think you worry that steady, beating heart on your sleeve is white noise – a static smoke filtering through what should be loud, bravado and pure masculinity. But, baby, I love that you notice when I have an eyelash on my cheek. […]

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Sexual Musings :: Bedtime

“Sing me to sleep, your scarred hands keeping time across my legs. Cradle me, let me drift off wondering if it’s your voice against my spine or Midwest summer thunder. The steady bass lullabye from your chest like crisp rain to my aching bones.” – B ©️ Pearl Bayou 2018

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It was in moments of utter silence when he found he liked himself the most. Not the type of silence suffocating the breeze against the surface of water or the buzzing silence of a quiet room but the sort of silence which filled him, left him adrift like a coffee cup brimming over with hazelnut. […]

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So God Made a Farmer’s Wife

One of my first and fondest memories as a school-age child was riding the bus and listening to Paul Harvey in the mornings. Looking back on it, there wasn’t much to “enjoy” (i.e.: lack of understanding) about Harvey’s airtime at the tiny age of five but something about his voice stuck with me. I sat […]

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