Tag Archives: sex

// tongues //

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the sun hides itself behind the candles on the walls
as i wait within my ritual silence
and close my starlit alien
eyes.
i am electric with the systems you
spin within me like
webs of silken skin, glistening
wet with the thoughts that
work at my
twisted mind.
i am still
as you touch me
in places i was taught
were beautiful,
soft
and
forbidden.
out the window sliding with rain over my head,
chained to the monster
i might have been
i can taste the metal clouds
rushing in.
the air is amber honey in a primitive
version of heaven
pouring down everywhere
and yet
redemption escapes
me.
i know the heat in your eyes
i know the hollow in the words like black birds falling from the
crumbling skies
curtains torn up from the floor become
a circle of white dresses dancing headless
out on the lawn, laughing.
something in the way you move reminds me
that we can no longer afford to live
the way it was
before the storm.

.

.

.

~ Allison Marie Conway ~

My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and mad affection. x

// wet //

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every move I make is deliberate and
exaggerated:
we can’t afford
mistakes.
I know you see through my x-ray body
and this
puts you
at ease.
I dip my liquid fingers deep
in crimson
paint
it drips to the floor –
maniacal waves relentless
in every
drop.
it stains my elbows and
my knees
rushes at your feet
as I sketch giant lusty images
on the ceiling.
I need you inside me
so that
I can
breathe
(forget everything they told you
to pray for,
angel,
the gods need us aching
like
this).
you read the tension in this
our silent vibrating communication with
an unhinged grace,
I watch your focus heavy
with animal eyes
as you absorb me
and
all
the
painted
figures
bleed.

.

.

.

~ Allison Marie Conway ~

My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and mad affection. x

// break //

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Some days punish and stimulate like cascades of warm rain sliding in hot crystal streams over bare summer skin. Like a lover’s willing mouth open, plush and ready, locked in a room you can’t find, in a building with walls that mirror each other.

Some days you are the artist and her muse, in a strange and masterful chaos you become the one you seek to observe: an illicit object, a distorted galaxy, a rotating world of tempt and threat, undressing.

I have felt Love on me like hands so crushingly gentle they shatter and collect me with every handsome, brutal intrusion; so commanding that even as I am falling apart, I am falling back together.

I have seen myself as beautiful even as I am drowning in self-abuse and self-sabotage. Something bigger than suffering exists. It watches without exhaust, it waits for millennia without tire or question.

Something so infinitely vast that it can cradle any amount of suffering and love all of it, as if nothing exists that is not Its own.

.

.

.

// nude //

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Take my nimble eager hands, lead me down the darkened halls of your mad and thickening fantasy. Show me on this body that I’m the crime of a past lover’s unrest and the keeper of codes long buried under shipwrecks at the soundless bottom of an ancient sea.

Tug at the edges and refuse to stop. Drape the concrete midnight sun and snake your expert hands around my wrists, offer me everything. Spread my imagination wide as starless navy skies, pierce my soul with the beautiful sting of a dying winter.

Creation is the way we close our eyes, new life is danger in my bones fully drawn. I have risen from the clutch of a thousand graves, I have been bled of my mistakes by the shadow of streetlamps on pavements in the splitting rain.

The sharp blades of light on your chest remind me how many times I’ve shattered to be rebuilt like this. Spill your mess onto me; I will cleanse you, feed you, wrap you in the searing fires you had been ashamed to touch.

Spin the moons in my mind with your gravity, rake your fingers steady across my desire as I drop my defenses down.

Make me surrender all the words I no longer need as you suspend my ragged breath between your teeth. Bring me to your secret, sacred room and turn the key.

.

.

.

 

// trouble //

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I am, even to myself, a strange and beautiful trouble.

Even in stark stillness I am a relentless expansion, a curiosity, a sin.

I am an indulgence, a soft and ripening ache.

I am a mystery, a wild collection of deranged contradictions to the things you want to see in yourself as you look at me.

I like to stroke a thing until it derails.

Pummel it to the ground and search its insides for clues.

I am the heady aftertaste of the way you are afraid to feel, and I feel deeply, probe hungrily, into those shadowy places you neglect, dismiss, judge, ignore, reject.

Your disturbance electrifies something in my bones, the oddity of you, the unlikelihood of any of this, wets and fills even the driest rivers, sends them rushing back from the dead through me.

I am not a problem. I do not need to be fixed or corrected.

This life – my life – is an ecstatic, rugged, savage territory and I feast upon it all.

Heaven and hell tangle within me, both are teachers, both are guides, both are Love.

Trouble is evolution is freedom is treasure. The most tragic of all are not those who struggle but those who concede.

.

.

.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and mad affection. x

// knots //

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all these knots inside
me
I need them
bite on them
admire them
offer them
to you with your
blue clay hands.
you
move your thumbs slow
down
my celestial chest
straight and narrow in
maddening designs
until I come
apart.
you have done this
with other creatures before
it takes no time
at all.
and one by one you
reveal to me the
kingdoms within kingdoms I keep.
you tell me I am
safe outside my skin,
that I am eternity in heat,
that I am an ancient geometric
grid
you must taste to
understand.
there is no
other way to remember
you have no
eyes.
and as you build your burning cities
in my heavenly
darkening mind
I am allowed to
watch.

.

.

~ Allison Marie Conway ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and mad affection. x

// silence //

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your silence lives inside me
snakes around the tender parts
that hurt and beg,
that would crawl a thousand miles on holy water to
drown you underneath.
while i’m busy with carving sandcastles, hiding
from the sun and servicing the afternoon,
your silence pours hot ocean waves over my chest,
lights a cigarette and
spends the night.
it wets the cunning valleys of my body down
in streams, courses through my veins
as i imagine your
release.
my knees on the pavement, i’m praying for you
to remember my
eyes.
your silence watches me
tongues the carnal wreckage of my darkness
licks the burning pages, tears and
discards them.
undone by beautiful delusion,
i know what this looks like
and what it does to you.
a single butterfly moves its wings
inside a shot glass
between my teeth
on the other side
of the world.
my perversion of you is handfuls of
machine fingers measuring my neck
dressing and undressing me in animal skin
shed by the gods who walked a dying earth
alone
only
decades
ago,
i press my limbs against dreams with rose petals for
fists
gasping at the gasoline air you would feed me
but draw instead back in.
your silence it lives
inside me;
striking match after
match as
it speaks.

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