You don’t own me

bodyart, love, poetry, relationships, Romance, selflove, sex, yoga

I’ll let you own the moment, not me.

I just want to play.

No containing my desire to taunt and tease, satisfy and please.

Twirling my hair, sampling my skin, enjoying my vibrations: you see what I crave as you dive in to lick my lips and nibble my neck.

Your fingers turning on light switches all over my body, your energy surging through my veins; the pulsating as you fill me with your warm, sweet, savory…….. love.

The aroma of us locked in my memory, our taste-my favorite flavor, all of these sensations I’m trying to savor.  Your sounds, your skin, your lines, the spaces, slow, slower… slowly you become my ecstasy.

You woke up my wants to fill your needs, made me gasp for air, and weak in my knees, but please remember, you don’t own me.

Danielle Atherton-Rutledge 

 

 

 

 

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Toy with me

bodyart, love, poetry, relationships, Romance, selflove, sex

So, you think I’m your toy, little boy?

You want to pull my strings, compare me to other shiny things, toss me around with your careless ways, and throw me in the garbage after I’ve been broken, worn, and frayed?

Playing with my body, and toying with my mind, as if I were a monster truck and you were nine.  I’d rather play chess, and blow your mind, but here we are circling this track, and wasting our time.

I can’t help but wonder if I looked like Barbie, would you then be my Ken?  If I were the perfect shade of cherry red, would you pay closer attention?

Or, maybe it’s that, you’d tinker with me rather than toy, if you were an man instead of a boy.

Danielle Atherton-Rutledge 

 

 

Sweet love

bodyart, love, relationships, Romance, selflove, sex, Uncategorized

She consumes love, and so, it pours from her soul, seeps through her skin, spills out of her mouth, and blesses all with a breath of fresh air. 

She smells like the sun, feels like the clouds, tastes like a rainbow, whispers like the ocean, and shines as bright as Christmas morning blanketed in snow.  She becomes the love she lets in.

She embodies the essence of her inhales and exhales: deeper, slower, softer, sweeter; she savors the subtle, digests the details, and emanates the effects of her efforts.

You can offer her fear, but she knows how it tastes, preferring the sensations and vibrations of peace, she chooses to swallow what cleanses her palate…….sweet love.

Danielle Atherton-Rutledge