My Favorite Sin

salty and sweet,

her taut skin shines

with the effort of her arched back,

a pleasing pressure building as her heartbeat

races

beneath lips kissed

bruised and plump,

a name slipping sticky and rasping – a mantra

that hums

that sings

that crescendos

rippling through fingers hidden in sensitive flesh,

delightful and stirring and omnipotent,

until she succumbs

spent

exhausted,

loved into existence

Therapy

Almond eyes and flint in her fingertips:

I turn to ashes,

a grey mist rising from a dawn, hiding

the sun as she tries to bake the earth.

A sigh from her lips

quiets the storm,

reveals the iris petals,

pale and pink on her desk.

A gift.

Alive despite the surrounding darkness.

Prometheus and Phoenix.

Punished and redeemed.

Sister

Dark hair and dark eyes, living in dark places

but still effervescent

until your Tanqueray Polaris washed it away.

One sip, two sips, three bottles down.

Reached, grasped, lost your grip

to a bewitching lie veiled by the women at the cross

as they bowed to a rare mercy.

You battled in your dreams

for the life you wanted and the one you had,

for a truer north that lingered on your skin.

Your forgiveness is growing every day.