Tuesday, 9 December 2014

WonderBra Woman

With that bra, those
well-concealing Spanx, you
hide yourself from the world,
and from me when you
prefer the dark, flinch so when I
reach for the light, though
all I wish is to
revel in you as woman, with
all your imperfections.

Tuesday, 25 November 2014


My hair will never be as
lustrous as yours; my skin
will always be rough wool
against your silk; mornings
I will always look half-dead, you
more than half-alive and,
otherwise naked, you will
always look better in my shirt than
I ever could.

Friday, 14 November 2014


Naked is just as I found you, in
nothing else but air, with that
innocent smile intended to

Saturday, 25 October 2014

Seventh Veil

When she reached the Seventh Veil,
knowing how to make a
pause pregnant, she merely
swayed to unheard music, rising on the
balls of her bare feet, her
navel jewel catching the light, her
hands pirouetting above her head,
drawing his eyes to her
tautened tits, then a
slow glissando, a
shush of skirt on skin,
naked silence.

(Inspiration and gorgeous image by kind permission of  http://holden-and-camille.com/ with many thanks!)

Sunday, 12 October 2014

Rubicon Illustrated

That strange taste haunted her throughout the
long school day, despite her initial
revulsion—just a hint behind the
toothpaste and breakfast, the shivery
ghost of an experience she knew had
carried her across a deep invisible
Rubicon into a strange land open to
conquest:  the land of Men, in which
bizarrely the young woman on her knees could
exercise such unexpected power.

Image courtesy of Holden and Camille (http://holden-and-camille.com/) with their express permission, and please respect their copyright in this wonderful image. My enormous thanks to both of them :)

Thursday, 18 September 2014


Her sage-green nightdress
sways on the washing-line
as though she were within it,
dancing in that “I
don’t care” attitude, that
subtle bump of rhythm that says
Come Hither,
Go Yon.
Want me?
Find me.

Sunday, 3 August 2014


Tied tight in the ambiguities of
marriage and children, I find myself
hankering for those days of
uncertain kisses,
whispered words, the
instinct of hands.

Friday, 1 August 2014


She dressed with care, thinking
what to hide, what to reveal, what
height of heel was
suitable for the situation,
how much her
eyes needed camouflage, how much
lipstick would cover the cracks,
knowing that love
kisses bare-mouthed.

Friday, 13 June 2014

Calmer Sutra

The house clicks and creaks as things
warm or cool, just like our
old bones crack and growl like
icebergs calving as we try to
contort our recalcitrant bodies into
The Beast with Two Bad Backs.

Friday, 6 June 2014


She reddens as
she ripens, like a
fruit or flower
about to burst into
sudden splendour.

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

Gender Fender Bender

Our cars kissed bumpers
and in my rear-view mirror  you
looked like a boy, banging your
shorn head on the steering wheel, and you
looked like a boy when you
wrenched open my door to rant that I’d
stopped too quickly, all sweatshirt,
torn jeans and attitude, and you
certainly fucked like a boy in that
convenient motel, your aggression
taking me aback as you took me,
rode me, swallowed me, so that
it was only when your contented breath
ruffled my chest hair that your
girlness seeped out as you slept.

Sunday, 9 March 2014

Five-Finger Exercise

Your fingers are five ghosts
playing my spine like a piano
each finger a sense
each sense afire as they
coalesce at my nape to
pull my mouth to yours.

Monday, 24 February 2014

Sweet and Sour

Teach me all your sweet and
sour words of love, those
tongue-twisting lyrics of lust which you
mouth slowly, carefully, as if my
glottis were a three-year-old;
giggle uncontrollably when I
mispronounce; pounce, your
organ-stop nipples gouging my chest as you
attack my ear to
whisper hotly all that those
sinuous syllables symbolise.

Monday, 10 February 2014

Coccyx II

I’ll bet you are kneading your
tiny breasts, teasing, twisting your
taut nipples as your weight
settles on my shoulders, your
wet core seeking the
dry ground of my vertebrae, slowly
slithering down my spine until the
nub of your clit rubs the
stub of my tail.

Saturday, 25 January 2014

Bed Head

A poem inspired by this post by the adorable Lady Pandorah


To the world you are immaculate:
clothes chic, unique; jewellery
just so, no more; make-up
merely defining what is
already there; and that
wonderful hair so
carefully coiffed—the
touchstone of your public self.

So I am blessed to see that hair so
beautifully dishevelled as your
flushed face emerges from the
rucked sheets, a sly smile on your
sweaty face, a faint
trickle of my pleasure
serving as lipstick.

Monday, 13 January 2014

Just Wipe the Mirror

The bathroom fills with steam
as your hands absently soap your body,
taking inventory : fat ass, flabby belly,
no tits, stubble.

But what if I were there with you,
pressing the evidence of my ardour into
your welcoming ass, caressing your
tightening belly, your incipient tits,

unaware of stubble in my urgent
lift of you out of the shower,
feet splayed on wet floor as I
bend you forward to penetrate,

urging you to see how beautiful you are by
just wiping the mirror.