sins of the map-maker

Posted in Crimson Writ, Poetry on December 22nd, 2019 by D'jaevle

I know your curves.
I learned them the best way possible.
by touch and by taste.
with time and with hunger.
deliberate and slow.
swift and sure.

I mapped the contours of your body with intent and your curves remember me well; strong hands and parted lips left landmarks.

I left my poetry between your thighs and my scent upon your skin.

you are known, but not discovered; there are secrets left in the cleft of your thighs, and the rising rhythm of your breathe.

I know your curves.

But I want to know them better.

grey wolf

Posted in General Musings on December 8th, 2019 by D'jaevle

So – you are wondering – after almost fifteen years, why is he posting poetry almost exclusively?

Well, I mean, who doesn’t love poetry?

Honestly, almost everything I share – prose, poetry, autobiographical – is shared with an intent to evoke a feeling.

And poetry is my sharpest knife. The fastest way to mainline my intent. To inject my current mood or feelings directly into the veins of those who read my words.

Life evolves. The wolf under my skin is still there, but he’s older, slightly (so very slightly) wiser – and just as hungry.

I never write for a particular audience. I always write for myself first, and for the attentive reader second. Throwing bottled words to the world to see what the tides would turn up.

NE is still here. She’s kneeling by my desk right now. I spend every weekend with her and Bear. In a moment I am going to have my hands around her neck and her breath is going to belong to me.

Like I said.

Some things never change.

raised up

Posted in General Musings, Poetry on December 5th, 2019 by D'jaevle

from your knees
everyone seems
divine

subjugation by decree
submission through the
eye of a needle

there is such beauty
in a head lowered
and eyes
upraised