Always Been


My ass may bear his marks,

And I may honor on my knees,

Maybe our desires run dark,

And I must always ask with,”please”

Perhaps I follow written rules,

Respond quickly to his baritone,

Maybe he yields specific tools,

When I disobey a known

Maybe with every breathe I take,

I exhale in absolute bliss,

This life is more than a choice we make,

It’s natural, evolved from our first kiss

Thus my heart was woven to his,

Beating to just one rhythm,

This organic place we’ve reached truly is,

Where we are headed and where we’ve been

And apart from all the ‘protocol’,

That demonstrates our roles,

Which allow me to be my whole self, even small,

And he to lead, one common goal

It’s soul deep affirmation,

Open eyes that see, rejoice,

Allowing authentic selves fruition,

And every feeling given a voice

It’s more than kink, toys, and structure,

That may look confusing outside in,

He and I are very sure,
I’m his;
I’ve always been


Today, I’m grateful.

There used to be this angst that surrounded a lot of what M and I did, and how we did it. It was angst built of words unspoken, expectations which were unrealistic and unfulfilled, feelings unexpressed. It was made of regret and grudgery. Left unresolved, those feelings and issues remained, a pool from which we drew upon, or even added to, when something else popped up. We tried to resolve them, but sometimes we couldn’t always, so we’d agree to move on. 

Sometimes, things felt like a competition, as if we each were keeping a running tally of what the other did or didn’t do, and then measuring it against our personal list of our own dids and didn’ts. There was always a winner and a loser. Someone didn’t measure up. 

There was a layer of hurt feelings which we were too scared or too immature to tackle. Yet, we never gave up on the tackling, or on one another. We never gave up on us.

Things are much different these days. Unspoken doesn’t happen. There’s no more fear of speaking and expressing, on either end. Expectations are much more realistic. Emotions, all of them, have a safe place in which to live and thrive, and we constantly clarify with one another to understand. 

As a result, that angst is gone. It’s been replaced with a genuine understanding of the other person’s intentions, a knowing that we are operating with the other’s best interest at heart, no matter what. We count on it. Believe it. 

That’s been absolutely foundational. It gets us through everything, with fewer hurt feelings and less residual negative impact. In fact, it helps us move forward with new skills and information, because we can get to the heart of an issue more quickly and talk it through. We learn from and with one another.

Another amazing result has been that we appreciate so deeply all that the other does to help, both individuals and the family as a whole. We see the intentions, the effort, the impact. It’s not a competition; it’s exactly the opposite. We each know what we bring to the table and want more than anything to use those skills to help one another, and the family. We need to. And we’ve built a structure that allows for those skills to be capitalized upon. 

Above all, I need to see him happy. I need to be a part of the reason he is happy. I need to do all I can in order to see that happen. He needs the same thing. Except now, we each truly see and feel that. We appreciate.

As we prepare for his surgery Wednesday, and we each continue to express ourselves so freely about it all, make plans, and talk about the future, I am overwhelmed by the positivity of it all, of the impact this renewal has had in our lives. I’m emotional and afraid and a million other things all at once. So is he. But, the anxiety that used to plague me has diminished so much because of this thing between us. M has expressed his feelings openly like never before. We know we can count on one another. 

I’m hopeful, even amidst the fear. So is he. 

Today, I’m grateful. 

Save It

save it
I’ve heard it all before
no need to back pedal
or think so quickly 
on your toes
trying to explain
it all away
with excuses
and beefy 

don’t you dare
twist and pull
and try to point
that poison
back at me

it’s not me
it’s you

own it
or walk away

because if you don’t,
I will

~image credit Pinterest

Hot Guy

There’s this really handsome guy sitting in my living room. Lounged back in the chair, he’s sort of off-center, one leg swung over the arm and the other propped up on the ottoman. He’s wearing a really soft looking, gray, four button polo shirt and Levi’s that hug his ass just right. My eyes are drawn to the curve of his ass nestled on the edge of the cushion. I wish I could touch it – start at the top near his back and run my hand over that curve, feeling the muscled firmness against my palm. Maybe keep going, down his thigh, traveling to the inside, up to that bulge that seems to be taunting me from across the room.

Brow furrowed, his attention is focused on the new game he’s playing on the TV. Fingers swiftly moving over the white remote, pushing and gliding, his hands periodically shaking it with an abrupt up and down motion, and my mind begins to wonder….what else might those fingers and hands be good at, right now? They look so strong and able…

Every so often, the tip of his tongue pushes on his bottom lip until he unconsciously moves his lip down, making his tongue pop out to rest on top of it, his teeth clenching down, holding it in place. Ahhh, like he’s doing, right now. It’s so damn sexy. Glistening and slightly wet, it’s a dark shade of pink. I bet it’s so warm and nimble. I imagine his mouth is just as talented as his hands. I bet he tastes amazing.

I think he sees me watching him, but I can’t help it. My cheeks are flush, I’ve shifted in my seat at least a dozen times, and even crossed my legs, trying to give myself a bit of relief. He’s driving me crazy.

Oh, my. He just beat the level he was playing and turned to look at me, with a smile. Meeting my gaze, the room fell away. His eyes, oh, wow. What an entrancing shade of deep green, and so happy. And that smile! He smiles and I melt. I could look at that smile for the rest of my life.

“I love you,” he says.

Instantly, I’m reminded that I know all about that handsome man with the perfect ass and yummy thighs. I know what lies beneath those Levi’s. I know his strong, able hands, and all about that talented tongue. I know just how he tastes and smells, I know just how he feels about me. I know exactly how his body feels with mine. It fits. We fit.

And I’m reminded that I get to – I get see that smile, for the rest of my life.

I’m smiling, too.

*Happy Father’s Day to my M… thank you for making babies with me!

*ass pic credit Pinterest

Taking Flight

With precision, wings extend
Laser focus, to the end

Fluttering, she lifts in flight
In twists and turns, with all her might

Freedom in routine, led down a beam
Of her own light, following her dream

Head over feet, through the air
Smile upon her face, completely unaware

As loving hearts with pride look on
In their eyes, she’s already won 

-photo is mine, and this is dedicated to my youngest daughter

Were Not Some Part of Her

there was once a hole in her heart where no love would grow,
a void not desolate, no,
it was an urban uproar,
expectations as tall and as
sharp as city skyscrapers,
all angles and edges,
streets littered with elbows
and crowded corners,
she a pedestrian on an
endless, one-way route
of regret,
her yearning a suffocating
smog, a desperate redness
swelling in her tired chest,
droplets of shameful acid rain
eroding roads,
rationalizations the pits and falls on the map to nowhere

were not some part of her
made of steel and concrete,
her soul would have suffocated,
her lungs would have exploded against the weight

were not some part of her
a cartographer, bravely charting the void, the child inside would never have ventured forth
to find nourishment

were not some part of her
a gardner, feeding the green
amongst the steel and concrete,
her heart would not now
know such sustenance

were not some part of her
an architect, unafraid to draft and erase, hope would have died long, long ago, and her heart would not now be whole

-image is my own, reworking of a recent poem (a favorite) for the daily post