Filed under: Writings | I dream of rain

Your Hands

Solomon Peachy — 2009-10-31T01:12:24-05:00

Your Hands
 pinning my wrists
 stinging my cheeks
 gripping my hips
 crushing my throat
Own Me

Touch

Solomon Peachy — 2009-10-31T00:57:43-05:00

soft touch, rough touch 
 wild peace and endless heartbeats
careful touch, painful touch
 endless moments and wild tears
gentle touch, brutal touch
 endless comforts and wild joys
loving touch, deadly touch
 wild heartbeats and endless peace

Truth

Solomon Peachy — 2009-10-31T00:08:11-05:00

A warm presence on the foot of the bed
 dark and sleek
  breathing peacefully as she rests
   safe in her place
    knowing she has served her master well
     in all ways
      the collar woven around her throat
        from two sacred vows.

This morning

Solomon Peachy — 2009-10-29T11:27:00-05:00

I have much to think about this morning

 of life and love
 of currents and feeling
 of family and home
 of storms and breath

I have much to feel this morning

 of words and power
 of compassion and tenderness
 of night and shadows
 of distance and touch

I have much to learn this morning

 of presence and consequence
 of rage and passion
 of owning and growing
 of serenity and death

I have much, this morning

the other side of madness

Solomon Peachy — 2008-12-23T23:19:06-05:00

I'm spinning down, down, down.

Words fail the language of touch. Amazing experiences needing to be shared. Yet reach out to share, and only the formless void touches back.

I'm spinning down, down, down.

The need to feel others. Someone real, fully engaged. Someone other than oneself, external and internal. An anchor. A constant presence falling into the sea.

I'm spinning down, down, down.

Alone into my inconsequential oblivion.