The unity of sex

It’s about control.
My control over you,
over external stimuli,
it’s about navigating
my pleasure zones,
taking them cliff edge
and jumping, naked,
abandoned into an
angry sea of lust.
Its about power,
swinging the kinetic
pen-
du-
lum
in favour of me,
of you,
of me,
of you.
It’s nature’s force
rising within,
screaming obscenities
into the silent sky.
It’s about embracing
taboos,
painting them
across my torso,
mapping them
across my hip,
kissing them deep into my existence.
It’s about liberation,
those shackles that bind,
the ropes that burn,
the belt that reddens
The hands that restrain…
It’s about losing sight
and gaining… Sight
Being led into
temptation and
made to feed.
To gorge on sin
To devour whimsical
wishes, its about
control… My control
in your hands, my
power in your fingers
My need in your kisses
My desire in your strokes
My passion burning in your eyes
It’s all about trust
Power/ trust/ control
Yours… Mine…
They are the same
Its about unity.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

Photo

I am a speck

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A am a speck
Star dust.
An atom.
A mass of atoms.
A form created into structure.
Biological evolution.
I am a gender.
A stereotype.
Flesh, bones and grey matter.

And for the longest time the world’s axis stopped spinning at this realisation.

I am a speck.
An atom among atoms.
Star dust with an
ancient soul,
I am my reality
Living within another’s
surviving in a country
among countries on
a planet, among planets
Within a universe…
I am a speck.

Karen Hayward ©2017

The cerebral effect.

*edit from draft box.

chaos

A life devoid of emotions.
Let the sin of skin speak the truths and
devour our souls as passion slips
through onto the page. Fill the
emptiness with desire. Desire.
Desire that is inspired by an emotional
attraction. Fuse the temporary emotions
that can be created for purpose. Purpose,
the emotional state of being. Without being there
is no purpose. Emptiness that devours the soul
even death would be a welcomed benefactor, there
is no fate worse than this, the vastness of an
abyss. Frozen in time as an old homemade VHS tape
flicks though the candid camera. Before pictures.
Black and white tinged in belief, spoiled now
with a rainbows smear as even the leprechaun
sheds a tear for the broken. To venture, leave
behind past scars and become devoted to the
moment without concern for the future.
Remove my domino, let the cloak fall to
my feet and bare myself with the abandonment
of an untouched spirit and let passion be the
sparkle in my dying eyes. A life devoid of
emotion, is no life at all, it is the black abyss
of faithful regret, the cerebral effect of monotone
existence. It buries me raw in the bloodied
mud of mistrust and flows through my veins
poisoning my essence. It is the slow death
that creeps though your days as the angel
hides in the shadows, watching and waiting
to collect your part lived soul. But as he reaches
down to pick you out from the crowd, the
hollow shell cracks, the soul atomized. Forgotten
dust as the breeze carries the delicate petals
on new adventures.

Karen Hayward ©2016.

Image found on Pinterest

 

 

The taste of your kisses.

If only my lips could touch

your lips, I would momentarily

know the taste of love. I could

wake you daily to the sweet

taste of me pulling you into

the wonders of the day and

each night your kisses would

be the calm lull that holds me

safe as I slumber, our kisses

shall become the

perfect equilibrium.

My souls palette satisfied.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

Long forgotten twinkling sky.

Give me dark.
Take away the light,
The noise,
Let me sit
Beneath a black sky,
As dying stars
twinkle,
Above.
As moon light
Dances in my eyes.
Look then,
at me,
And in that moment,
As the darkness
Swarms around me
Look deep into the blues,
Past her reflective glare
Past the stars that are no longer there,
But please,
look only if you dare.
Because it’s there,
That you will find me,
Entirely.