I What bitter fantasy I let grow in my hook-wire-wrapped heart Sown alone With no outside warmth to nourish it I see this damaged beauty Cast aside in ignorance on the streets Trampled, it beats still Though the tears I weep would not revive it. A vegetable, Surviving only on the drips of hope …
The Tigress You hear her. Prowling in the darkness, her shadows and her light weaving in and out. Her sharp, sharp teeth, her swollen fire, her lonely lows. The tigress stalks the night and you pray she preys on you tonight. . The Gazelle and the Stallion Which would you? The gazelle, slim and lithe …
Your beauty mark You are desire on printed skin Even as you draw me in Your every touch a tender valentine A kiss, even missed, trembles with your salty shine We shiver as we laugh and try again To kiss, to devour, and to stake my claim We’ll pretend I was the only one …
. There are months in which we love, and months in which we are loved. They say February is a time for romance, for flames and flames renewed. A time for hearts, roses, dark chocolates and other empty symbols. They say April is a season of fools, and when fools make love, even order is …
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.