Thursday, December 13, 2012

Hopefully Tonight

Knot Hole
—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

hopefully I’ll feel something major tonight
—Trish Consunji, Sacramento

Away from him who doesn’t always see me clearly/honestly enough
I play with you and play that way stripped bare and wanting
There’s time tonight to crash against a wall
pinned limbs stretched and arched, breathless
Fueling attraction branded by a scratch
I memorize smooth roundness, strength, and bones
There’s sure ease when you fondle and exert impression
Using talk dirty for clues and your fine contours guiding everywhere else
Grateful to surrender those remnants of ache that hinder my style


It’s difficult not to think of you that way that way when you’re lean in stark shadows
too beautiful in form to leave and I trace torso so I may swoon again
You see me there not there not part of you yet so far maybe never
but imagine touch like that and think of me slow on you
beating tangled throws sweat and thick rhythm

Even when it’s wrong. Even though it’s hopeless.

—Trish Consunji


what you've done 
—Trish Consunji

i ponder what you've done to me

and lips don't change a thing

even when laid there

...overt gestures claim the heaviest air

urgency caught out of sorts

you can't be the only one

and maybe this flutter,

this pang will subside

though down my back

and i am yours too often

that dimpled smirk sideways

will shake/break my world

i inhale anxious moments

until i am all over you

—Photo by Katy Brown

—Trish Consunji

out of order 

barely intact



& lost

I wish 

to melt

out of this 

leave even 

good times

just fall 

in love 

with maps 

& forget 

the way 

he called me 



sun day 

—Trish Consunji
skin wicked with luck his nearness overwhelms me

as i observe his sugar quiet down my black soul

the best taste of him comes in the morning

when warmth is whispered through a dark red ache

there is deep pleasure in the sweet sounding word
he conjures out of blue and i play with on the bed


this place 
—Trish Consunji

inside this place it's happening again + not your swagger or sway

nor your reach or reflection can mean what they mean as inside this place

inside this place your honey spoils me    timing has wrecked those curves

how do i get over you when i long to be under you?


Today's LittleNip:

I breathe in 7 a.m.
Sustained in trance breathing
By propitious wooing

—Trish Consunji



For more about Trish Consunji, see

—Photo by Katy Brown