Any work that is written for persons 18 years of age or above.



Outside, does the sun even shine anymore

Crying, curled up on the cold kitchen floor

Alone, staring through a wall as hours go by

Empty, a chill that runs through you, again you start to cry

Silence, dead quiet sits in your ear

Rolling, down your cheek the wetness of your tear

Beating, so heavy is the heart dying in your chest

Green, so bright against the red eyes you cant rest

Spiraling, quietly falling deeper and deeper into a hole Read more »


You. Now. Wet. Open. 

Me. Breath. Power. Thrust. Taking. 

Ice melts. Life blossoms. 

At A Glance

Beneath the stars is a darkened glade, 

your pale nude body sublime in the shadows, 

starkly hidding from a stranger's gaze. 

Your panting fear cannot dampen 

your sensual luminence and feral desire. 

Trapped you are, held tight against the bonds 

not of this wooded spot but against your 

misunderstood need to exist pristine and be sullied. 

There is no contrast between light and dark. 

And we need not hide in shadow. 

Paris by Taxi

It was summer and it was Paris, a city where romance is more natural than the night stars and where every wind-blown shish of a woman's skirt excites the fantasies of those young men who by fate or calculation find themselves in this all consuming environment. Nor, or course, are the women blameless for the moral behaviour of their biological counterparts, for on every side street abide the most notable of Paris's citizenry, without whom, the Third Reich would soon have lost all interest. Read more »

Strangers Now

Jennifer drove the old Range Rover down a dirt road. She was a powerfully built woman, confident in her power and bodily contours. Her body swayed in rhythm with the motion of the car. Brad, her husband, sat in silence beside her, watching her watching the road. Attached to the roof rack was everything they had left. "We're almost there," she said without taking her eyes off the rutted road. Read more »

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