Sketch

My sis inspired me to begin posting my sketches up...check her out @ http://www.sketchbookjunkie.com

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

04.16.2010

Lately, I've been having to tell everyone that they'd be be ok. Shit, who's gonna tell me?

I'm starting to heal...

#0607

Don't make me waste my time.

Say It's Possible

[untitled] mo betta

I would be lying if I said I didn't fantasize about the way you felt from the moment I saw you. I mean I wondered about what would happen if I leaned in and gently placed my lips upon yours...If you would feel it there, if my gentle kisses would make your clit throb incessantly. What would happen if I wrapped my arms around your neck and whispered how bad I wanted you in your ear.

Can you make me feel safe there? I fantasize about being inside you, moving to the syncopated rhythms that our bodies will create...baby, we don't need music your moans are music enough. I can imagine them making me wetter than I will already be. I just want to make you feel, awaken emotions in you that you forgot you possessed. Stimulate you mentally while pleasing you physically. Sort of like when Common begged Mary to "Come Close" to him...I want you close to me...I wonder what you smell like, what scent will linger after you go away from me...I've had daydreams about waking up tangled in your arms. Can you make it betta? [To Be Continued]

If [You] Forget Me -- Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me
I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda