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All Dressed Up…
August, 2003  DoubleECircle
Cool Air Conditioned Dark Room
A man pauses his breath and exhales
Sitting in his chair, smoking, he examines the horizontal
Lines of sunlight trying reach him through tightly drawn window shades
Balling his fist tightly, as tight as the muscles go
He wants to hit something, he wants to scream…

Breath, an ash, a memory from months past.

The feeling of going slightly insane watching
The moistened mouth of someone you love move
In casual conversation about the movies?

(don’t get me wrong I think its great you had a nice day I just can’t reconcile that statement with your smell)

It was slick sex, and smooth skin an empty bottle and
A Rug stained red with a fine Merlot
Wet thighs and kisses moved to quickened
Heart beats.

That mouth.
Whose bottom plump lip
The single
Bead of sweat that had snaked down my forehead,
Down my face
And collapsed off my chin in a final moment
Of total

Undeniable unquenchable thirst,
Mass desire spring loaded and coiled
Fisted emotional engines on full,

All dressed up with nowhere to go.
All dressed up
With nowhere to go.


Releasing the Fire
 October, 2000  by Tex (TXPOET)
Inside us all is a smoldering fire
Yearning, longing to be set free
Something that takes us higher
To places we can’t foresee

His lips touched hers gently
The heat began to radiate
They began very intently
Sensing what was to be fate

Their bodies closer melded
Their skin ablaze and on fire
As they headed to the bed
Both feeling the sexual desire

In each other they reveled
Drinking from one another
The bed got quite disheveled
As they explored each other

Finally the thirst was quenched
But the fire was still burning
They stayed tightly clenched
Their bodies still a yearning

They peered into each other eyes
And saw themselves contented
Love came to them as a surprise
But their fate was firmly cemented

Together they would always be
For they were each other’s desire
Their hearts unlocked by love’s key
They had finally ignited life’s fire


August, 2003 by DoubleECircle

He grasped her hand
To make a run through the crowd.
It was a cold Michigan Ave.
The Festival of Lights.
The excited laugh she gave out and tightened grip
Fueled the 6 month long quiet obsession,
With her rare smile
And intelligent, deep brown eyes.
Dashing ten feet, twenty,
And suddenly they found themselves through the obstacle,
Past the busy Ave. and in a Silent Moment of Awareness.
She flexed her fingers,
And he released her hand.
The feeling died in a swift grip of empty air.
“Lets go,” she said quickly
And lead off.
Not looking back.
He followed,
Fingers growing colder.



The Little Things
July, 2004 by Tex

The kneading of flesh during an embrace

A warm damp tongue making circles on circles

Air across the dampness causing a slight chill

The gentle raking of teeth across now firm peaks

A nail lightly drug from the back of the knee upward

The brush of a beard against an inner thigh

Muscles dancing beneath the skin

Light kisses on fevered creamy skin

A breath across silken curly hairs

The smell of musk spreads outward

A lapping tongue tasting ambrosia

The back arching higher and higher

The explosion and the writhing body relaxes

The mottling of the skin across the chest

The satisfied smile, and the afterglow

The joy of giving


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