If I starved myself of food
I would never feel empty
because someone
with a taste for beauty
made you delicious.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 12 January, 2014
If I starved myself of food
I would never feel empty
because someone
with a taste for beauty
made you delicious.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 12 January, 2014
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 1 October, 2012
Opening my soul,
the petals of its
soft, pink, luscious,
silken flesh
become a mirror,
beckoning
all and any
to the gateway
of my swollen, naked heart.
And oh,
how does the honeybee suckle,
I remember,
approaching with a mask of
raw intention
– innocent –
but for the ravaging purpose
it knows only, yet again, to – here – ensue:
and so it does.
My blushing fortress
sways and tempts:
a feathered
floral
nudity, as,
in you float,
oh honeybee,
in pregnant pause
to share my perfumed freedom
as I blossom
with your tongue inside my lap.
Crush me, not,
but leave me torn – yet, just as gentle.
Your organic levitation swells my fancy.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 16 May, 2012
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 9 January, 2012
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 11 December, 2011
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 28 December, 2011
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 2 December, 2011