Fire
© 2017 SJP Her hands paint my skin with fire sending blue chills down my spine, these magenta caresses leave cum-laced messes behind and I’m alright with it Her touch paints stars beneath my eyelids, her tongue tracing holy glyphs in secret places only she can find....
Scars
© 2017 Sandra Jean-Pierre She kissed it once, the scar from the top of my back down towards my ass she remembered my mentioning it, couldn’t help but see it when we undressed for the first time. I held my breath unsure of her reaction, unsure how I must have looked to...
Warrior’s Furnace
© 2016 Sandra Jean-Pierr Dust settling and there's that horizon eyebright painful even with four fingers, planked across brows furrowed in knowing even with shadows cast across broad nose bridges, nostrils flared against the unrelenting stench of dispatched...
Pulse
2016 © Sandra Jean-Pierre Animals will be animals, regardless of the God they serve. Where love does not abide violence is eminent, where disregard for life lives, Death is gatekeeper. No God is needed to know this.
Truth’s Existence
©2016 Sandra Jean-Pierre Wiry promises through tinny phone lines fall rusted at my feet water to my ankles brushing past my knees, stopping air from meeting my nostrils engulfed in a sea of lies that never knew Truth's existence And I wonder: how can Life sleep at...
Mother Magic
© 2016 Sandra Jean-Pierre Ghislaine. I am forgetting what your laughter sounds like, your avatar, in my memories: head thrown back, eyes closed in joy, mouth wide in mirth- is silent faded I am no longer able to re-produce You fully. What I remember? the...
Of Nights
© 2016 Sandra Jean-Pierre Maybe In another life, where our skins aren't so papery-thin and our minds aren't so filled with resignation. ...where our ships don't sail in the darkest of nights, maybe that's where the sun will greet us.
Dear Butches
Being Butch does not erase your femininity. I don’t desire you because you ‘look’ or ‘act’ like a man. I want you because only you can wear those masculine clothes like you do. I want you because I know that beneath those masculine clothes, are the soft curves and...
No Time Left For Being Children
© 2013 Sandra Jean-Pierre The cards lay wantonly, this un-winning hand exposed with all watching. Taking the Lion's share of the suffering, owner succumbing to the decorated waxy surfaces' hidden meanings. Quickly, quickly! There is no time left for being children!...