Laughing Medusas

I feel the breath I've only heard.
I taste the lips I've only dreamed.
I know the love I doubt exists.
I have you.

~Asherah

She encompassed all shades and hues of black. She inhabited the periphery of existence and most of the time, she remained unnoticed. I saw her first, as a glimmer. I am not sure, even in retrospect what it was that dove out of the darkness, barely beyond my field of vision. I felt that there was something to see, more than I actually saw anything, and turned to face her. I couldn’t see her. Instead, I saw where the black shade of the forest became silky and supple. I saw the iridescent reflection of a scale; knew it was feathery to the touch, simultaneously razor-sharp and I needed to caress it.

She did not move out of the obscurity of shadow, but her silhouette appeared as the shadow retreated in a ripple motion. She had neither scales nor feathers in this light, and I needed to caress her. Creamy, nearly transparent skin was stretched gently over every bone and muscle mass she carried with her. She had eyes the color of every root beer flavored popsicle that had melted down my chin as a child. And without uttering a sound she spoke to me.

In that moment I was hers, because she had chosen me.

~Asherah

Your sleek design contrasts my full breasts and fuller hips. I soften your angles with my curves. Your tough outer shell, melting beneath my mouth, tasting your softer side, delving deep into the femininity you try so hard to hide. Your thick skin, slick and sweet beneath my fingers. Your calloused heart supple in my palm.

Let go of the rage, stop fighting the fight for a moment. Just long enough to lose yourself in the safety of my arms. I know you're strong, I know you're tough. But just for once, let me love you gentle.

We've growled against the system all day... tonight, I just want to make my baby purr.

~Asherah

I want this

More than I wanted to
More than I care to

More than you

~Asherah

(A Revision of "Never Trusted Poets")

I’ve never trusted poets

Their words
Always too intense
Too melodramatic
To be true

Poets cannot separate
What they write from
Who they are

They are zealots
Writing
What they cannot endure
Yet claim to know

But no one can feel
That strong
All the time
I just don’t buy it

So I’ve never trusted poets

But I trust you
Either you are not a poet
Or I am caught
Trusting a poet

(And there’s no denying
That you are a poet
It was tattooed upon your soul
Long before you had it inked upon your body)

So that leaves me here
Vulnerable and yet
Unafraid

Trusting you

~Asherah

Finally
I can
Touch you
Hold you
Taste you

Me... you

The intrigue
(Eternal)
Has faded

The desire
(Unquenchable)
Has passed

You're all I ever wanted
And even you
Are not enough
Tonight

~Asherah