Green Shoots Unseen

  AH such keen thrill to this cold, this ice in my bones I run through the house naked a flying queen in snow cloak to stand skin first pressed against fire I squeal with life biting it sucks me closer…. Like old love yesterday moments that should remain buried but are not quite dead and

Hot Bath

  Winter’s eye at frosted window chills, taps, whistles and whines….. but I slip into hot skin, feet first… The prickle pleasure, tongue curling heat, enters me toes call and stretch, pink ears and nipples squeal sigh fly! This new world heaven of wet fever is deepest joy my heart my soul my song, moon