Summer calls me.

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The warmth of a spring day has me peeling away layers, my skin tingles at the excitement of freedom, I fight the urge to walk bare foot across the grass, I fight the Urge to strip away more layers, I fight the urge to skip beneath the sun, I fight an urge I know I will lose as summer creeps in I will creep out beneath the sun, my spirit soaring into the rich blue skies. For the summer is where my soul dwells.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Freckles speckled across my soul.

Look at me. Look past the porcelain skin, the scars of battles lost. Look past the speckled freckles that lay peppered like a lonesome map across me. Look at me. Look past the topaz blue, look through the hidden pain the treasured memories, walk through the fears and the tears that beg to fall. Look at me. Look past my smile, my frown, my whimpering lips, my nervous bite. Look beyond the softness of precious pink lips. Look at me. Strip away my layers, place the past at the door, my fears on the floor, leave my insecurities on some distant shore. Look at me. Look at me naked breathe in the essence of my soul and sip greedily from my spirit. Let your fingers wander across me in perfect symbolism of my perfect imperfection. Taste me in your beating heart, taste me in your swarming soul, taste me in your fleeting spirit. Look at me. See me. Feel me. Take me. Let go of societies mask let it drop to the floor, show me. Show me what lays beyond your skin, show me who you are when all is stripped bare, show me what lays there. Show me eyes with eternal depth, show me lips that tingle anticipation of knowing. Show me. Look at me. Look at me. Show me.

Karen Hayward ©2016

The Curve of my Hip.

Come and explore the curve of my hip

with your tongue and the warmth of your lip.

Run your fingers across my skin

leave a trail of kisses where you have been.

Touch me and see me kiss me and hold

whisper to me fantasies never been told.

Run your fingers through my hair

feel me like you care.

Take me as I am, right there.

Pleasures to taste pleasures to share.

Karen Hayward (copyright) 2015.

Strip Away Those Clothes. (A Hedonistic world)

If only they would stop searching the endless paths of

hopeless fools that dominate the green green grass

of earth. If they could just stop looking to appease the

lost souls of the blind clones and their followers, they

could be free. They could strip away the insecurities

of an unstable society and walk the balance beam of chaos,

one foot in front of the other as their soul flies on ahead

to clear the way. If for a moment they could shake away

their prudish thoughts, let passion enter their minds, brush

away the dirt of a gentleman’s rule, they could know ecstasy.

The creeping wave that floods through the perfectly tuned body;

inhibitions left at the door, clothes strewn across the floor,

desire in the fingertips of fire, passion no longer

denied as the flames burn inside.

If only they could walk this path, leave behind the sins of

the clueless few who fear the strong. So much fear for the other side,

for those that walk bare skinned without sin beneath a veil

of devilish fun with tantalizing tales of lust, stories of trust

and moments in time of naked bodies never meant to

be mine. Alas, the path is their choosing all mottled in grey

always concerned for the place where they lay.

The dust of diamonds, sprinkled on our naked skin.

Laying naked on the white cotton sheet,
A rising heat.
I think
About
Your
finger
Tips,
Tracing
The contour of my back.
Whilst we talk, idly through
the glow,
Discover the things we yearn to know.
Whilst the
clear whole moons light,
Dances through the night,
leaving footprints on our skin.