25 November 2009


i'm convinced you'd be happier
never to hear my voice
because i never seem say the right things
and, to be quite honest,
i'm awfully tired of trying
to say anything to you anymore.

i remember when i used to speak
and men would linger on my words,

24 November 2009

late night thought

at this very moment
i have a terrible desire
to bite your bottom lip
as you fuck me.

23 November 2009


Dreaming of a New World, 2008, by Michel Goulet.
Gift of City of Montreal to Quebec City for its 400th anniversary.

16 November 2009


You gave me the most delicious Sunday, full of lusty thoughts and various positions. Throw me up on that kitchen counter and fuck me, I beg silently and in typewritten word. Pin me against the wall and wrap my leg around your body as you thrust your hard, thick cock in me . Straddle me and let me watch you come on my naked breasts, and as your moans fill the room - watch me stroke my clit, watch me writhe on a messy bed by means of my own hands. I am so wet for you. So hungry to be fucked by you.

12 November 2009

Dear B________ ,

You've always lacked tact, my dear, and you were always a little too underhanded for me. You would always build me up only to knock me down. After we ceased to be lovers, you would treat me the same. Foolishly in my good heart, I would think you had changed for the better and you recognized the mistakes you made with me. I would think that you finally acknowledged what a woman I am. I believe you have changed a bit and I think, for a brief moment when you were drunk and lonely, you realized where you went wrong with me. The wall you built up years ago and before me, the asshole in you that I knew so very well, still prevents you from being tactful and respectful with me. When I thought that you had truly changed, you'd make a guest appearance in my life only to drag up the past and be an asshole to me once again.

I've always kept my beautiful mouth closed around you. There were so many words I wanted to say but pleasantly smiled instead. I knew that got under your skin more because you would not have the power to twist my words around to your advantage. And I knew that if I confessed what hurt, I would also have to confess what did not.

I was more than "five foot ten and worth the climb" but I cannot help but smile at the expression after all these years. You had great taste in pens. You made excellent breakfasts and I still remember the taste of your lemon pepper hash browns. You taught me a lot and what I enjoy, sexually, is because of you. You had a fantastic cock, there's no denying that. You were my first lover and there will always be a certain fondness in my heart for you.

You were the first person to tell me that you were madly in love with me. A week later, I found out that you said it out of guilt. I walked on air for that week, believing that someone was in love with me. As you stole that wonderful moment from me, you told me that I was not good enough for you - I was not old enough for you - I was not this, I was not that. Months later, you came around only to tell me the single most hurtful thing anyone has ever uttered to me - "Maybe in ten years, you will be the one", said, of course, after you charmed me and got me into your bed again. Over the years, you would perform this song and dance - come into my life with lovely things to say, only to say something twice as shitty in regards to me. You did this to our mutual friend as well. After awhile, we stopped trying to figure out why and learned to laugh you off instead. Hell, at least the sex was good.

This time, I was the first. Once again and unsurprisingly, you lacked tact in your delivery. Despite that, I am happy and, as always, wish nothing but the best for you. Genuinely, as I always have been.

Your old lover

10 November 2009

Bleeding Heart

i wish my heart was stronger
& that I could easily brush off
the sentences thrown at me
& the words left unsaid.

i am disappointed in you,
generally speaking.

07 November 2009


"Eroticism is one of the basic means of self-knowledge, as indispensable as poetry."
~ Anais Nin

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06 November 2009


My new shoes would look fantastic under your desk and my legs wish to be wrapped around your body as you fuck me hard.

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05 November 2009


For some reason, my hair smells like you tonight.

04 November 2009

Hard at Work

I have no pretty words for you this afternoon.
All I have are lusty wishes to have bruised knees
and your long fingers tangled in my hair,
while my mouth works up and down your hard cock,
hidden away in the back of your office.

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01 November 2009

Last Call

When he walked in the room,
I questioned if he was wearing a costume
or if it was simply an ill-fitted sweater.
Candle on the table and a pint in his hand,
the corner of a dimly lit pub.
I sat at the bar on a stool,
so quiet and so curious,
while laughter and words twisted around me.
The line between drunk and sober is thin
and I am on hands and knees, crawling
towards a lust-filled adventure that only requires
two sweaty bodies tangled together.
A smirk curled the corner of my red-painted lips,
at the thought.

Hair hung in his sleepy grey eyes.
You look like that singer from Scotland,
I thought, and your full lips need to be licked
by curious women who are hungry to taste
someone so very young and pretty
and so seemingly serious,
someone who does not realize
that there is something quite beautiful
in awkwardness and ill-fitted sweaters.

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