A Housewife or a Whore

I’m not your wife
I’m not your whore.
I’m not your do-it-yourself kit or your convenience store.

I’m not your scandal
I’m not your mistress
I’m not your partner in crime or your adulteress.

I’m not your escape.
I’m not your privilege.
I’m not your verbal punching bag or trash can for temperamental spillage.

I’m not your trophy.
I’m not your valet.
I’m not your boomerang, I won’t always come back when you throw me away.

I’m not your Barbie.
I’m not your blow up doll.
I’m not your ass kisser.
I’m not your booty call.

I’m not your hitching post or whipping boy.
I’m not your own personal sex toy.

I’m not your Jezebel or concubine.
I’m not your Mary Magdalene
I’m not your pregnant swine.

I’m not your scarlet letter or black Madonna.
I’m not your woman or your baby’s momma.

I’m not your Roxanne.
I’m not your Billy-Jean.
I’m not your motorboat.
I’m not your washing machine.

I’m not your bun’s oven
I’m not your house slave.
I’m not your power drill or microwave.

I’m not your player piano
I’m not your horn blower.
I’m not your drums to be beat
I’m not your riding mower.

I’m not your slut
I’m not your battle ax.
I’m not your little girl
I’m not your bitch to be bitch-slapped.

I’m not your free ride
I’m not your domestic hostage
I’m not your eye candy, lollipop or your throat lozenge.

I’m not a tally mark
I’m not your ball and chain.
I’m not your cheap date.
I’m not your maid.

But what else can I be
when I don’t have a choice.
It’s either one or another:
A house wife or a whore.

Strangers from L.A.

Whispers and sweet nothings

soothe her dry lips

as he leans close to deliver

broken promises of tomorrow.

Nothing matters now.

The wine is gone,

his blue shirt is on the floor

next to their bodies.

In the dark their colors

fade to one their bodies,

a mélange of radiance.

Age and distance cannot

separate such a passion.

When strangers become

lovers and nothing more

as life’s gifts are here now

and will catch a flight out

tomorrow morning.

Kingdom

Take me

Relinquish morals,

unattainable ideals,

unfulfilled expectations

and the futility of promises.

and surrender

to lust

to sin

to the decadence

of forbidden flesh.

Bow

to scandalous opportunities.

Embrace

your primitive nature.

Lower

yourself onto transgression.

Feed

the vanity of your carnal urge.

Indulge

in those earthly delights

your god created you to enjoy

in his organic kingdom.

Set me free:

Show me the urgency

of tonight’s reunion

and the sanctity of this occasion.

Worship this body

as it becomes one

with yours.

Spring

Spring time is around the corner.
New life begins from nothing.
Longer days bring more warmth
from the sun and the promises
of a new tomorrow.
But traces of winter still poke through:
the bitter cold hasn’t left just yet.
Winter’s darkness still holds on
by sprinkling the last of its snow,
freezing the budding flowers trying
to emerge from the hardened ground.

Our darkness still lingers
and we’re both worn from this
bitter cold season of mistakes,
arguments and regrets.
Tired of fighting this biting cold,
struggling to say warm.

And then the sun shines through
and we remember why
we’ve been here all along.
Once the snow has melted
we can see how we’ve forgotten
the beauty of our love’s devotion.

As the seasons change the weather
from bitter cold to glowing warmth
we’re reminded darkness doesn’t last forever.
Traces of winter try to poke through
but the warmth of our love is too strong.