NEED

They went up in flames, whoosh, just like that.

They were two crossed wires that caused an

explosion.

She had no thoughts other than thoughts about

her body and what it wanted.

He touched her here, he kissed her there

she could not get enough, did not want it

to stop.

He caressed her body, then grabbed it;

he sucked, then bit.

He was a man who had not made love in

a long time, and his unchecked desire was

touching, heartbreaking almost.

I wanted to hand myself over: yes, take me

gobble me up.

I fell, I landed hard. Welcome to reality.

Belief

She has been the door, he the key.

Now and forever more it has been

the same story. Sorrow and

ecstasy, love and loss.

Yet here he stands, against her intense curiosity

her nascent desire.

He holds her face like a child's face, a doll's

face. Small and delicate.

Unwittingly casting a spell. Breathless in the moment.

She arches for him, does he ache for her?

His kiss a drug, a rush. Too powerful to let go.

He is like holding an instrument she has never

learned to play. She understands his longing,

his fear. His mistrust. She knows all his secrets.

Body to body and worlds apart.

Never once did she allow herself to believe.

She turns and walks away to the door,

forgetting the key.

Cat Stevens - Sad Lisa Lyrics

RED

He lays her down on a soft white duvet,

a field of fresh snow.

His face taut with hunger he allows his

eyes to wander across all that is her.

It is her lips, red, full and wet.

Bending his head down he drinks in

his fill and finds himself wanting more.

The creamy column of her neck, the

swell of her breasts.

To her lips he returns.

He stays to fill his soul.

Blood Work

she is buffeted by the strong winds of

change. Scattered about as dandelion

fluff in a raging storm.

Vision blurred to time and space, she

reaches. Hands spread out to feel..

anything, something.

Shaking and dizzy. Each tremble a

tiny but shattering vibration.

All that she needs, desires, she cannot

grasp. She no longer understands these

emotions. Like everything else in her

shortened life, they are gone.

What she does know,what she feels

churning in her soul,

is the one thing remaining.

This is blood work. No more, none less.

Euripides

But learn that to die is a debt we must all pay.