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Enjoy the silence ~

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One of those moments where I wish there was someone here, right now, to talk with. Not a text, phone call, email or tweet….  a real person face to face. 


Everything inside of me is ferocious, passionate, and unrelenting in need of real substantial time.  


Not even creating art has been able to subdue my feelings. Unsuccessful in the attempt to temper them so they are easier for me to sort through. 


I don’t mind being alone, this is just one of those moments when I need another person in the room. My list of those whom I contact in times like these is short, I can count them even though they are very busy~ especially this time of year.  I’ll wait patiently for one of them to respond.  

Until then, I’ll work through it as always. Thinking, sorting, cleaning up and locking away certain aspects of me that cause more problems than they are worth. It’s always good to have a long talk with your shadow side, keeps one humble.  At least it does with me. 

I’m thinking that the universe is telling me to enjoy the silence, offering another lesson for me….  not that I enjoy it. 

Perhaps by the time they respond, the need will be gone, I’ll have figured it out. Then we can all have a good laugh, as usual. 




































Silence by Antoine-Augustin Préault  (1842)

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Wetness does not always pertain to water
in an ocean, river or lake;
Sometimes it refers to how I feel
when I remember your embrace.

I only have to think of you
to remember me in your arms;
My legs quivering, my mouth moaning
I have fallen captive to your charms.

I long to feel your body on mine
to know the taste of satisfied love;
To lie quietly in your arms
we fit together like a hand to a glove.

You are the sweetheart of my life
you are my one sure bet;
You never have to wonder babe . . .
you can always keep me wet.


Wet
by Kate J.
Languidly parting the moist curtain.
he slides into the smooth vessel.
the color of fire pink velvet.
his large hands securely wielding the creamy white handles,
firmly manipulating them until
just a trickle of foamy liquid flows forth.

She faces him, their eyes, reflecting pools of love,
lock on each other. embracing, both, with body and soul,
they melt together in the steamy atmosphere.
memories flood as her neck arches and wet kisses cover her throat.
teasing one another in the aquamarine Caribbean ocean.
causing rough ripples to fan out across the water of a swimming pool
as
they
played.
discovering new things as a soft summer rain, like the sound of a
tinkling
xylophone, soaked them.

Aromas of citrus, colognes and faintly, the sea
drift and swirl around them.
skin drenched, rivulets of salty sweat stream between them.
sauna heat builds as temperatures rise.
flesh moves with synchronized, frantic fluidity.
a torrential river violently rushes into a cascading waterfall.
drowning in a frenzied whirlpool, gasping for air, silent screams.
then the peace of a tranquil, crystal clear lake prevails
and the relaxation of a hot spraying shower returns,
as she lovingly shampoos his hair