October Is

October is autumn and magic in the air.

October is the smell of chimney smoke on the air.

October is crisp apples and sweaters warm.

October is made up of colors red, orange, and gold.

October is the death of summer,

Winds blowing and fires burning are its death knell.

October is shrieking children begging for treats,

and threatening with tricks.

October thins the veil,

giving the corporeal and non-corporeal

permission to touch upon each other and commune.

October is the end of the harvest,

The herald for the dark,

the end of the old and beginning of the new.

–October 2015


If I Were Yours

If I were yours, I would submit to your whim and wish. Whatever you demand I’ll strive to comply, to please you. Because that is what I am here for. Your pleasure, to have of me. Spank me, bind me, spread me wide. Kiss me, lick me, hurt me as you will. The marks you leave behind, badges I wear proudly, symbols of my submission to you. Share me or keep me for your own. Put me on display or keep me for your viewing pleasure alone. Your command is my wish.


I want to feel your skin slide across mine. I need to feel your teeth at my neck, your hands on my hips. Pull me close until I feel your hardness, steel in silk. I want your scent, your taste. I crave it, body aches for it. Give your cock up to my lips, your essence to my tongue. Fill me up and drain me then come back to me for more.