In the waking hours eyes still shut half mind lost half mind present  that's the time they arrive there's an opening that must be exploited  the goblins enter,with weird memories and imaginations sowing salt on fertile ground  I could lie there all day in this strange middle earth contemplating disaster but...

Some days are crying daysor I want to die daysOther daysare grateful days or I'm glad to be alive daysNo day is certain No day is permanent  

I feel your presence I'm not scaredyou know me wellmy soul is bared You've been beforethree times indeedyou thoughtI'd be an easy feed Nearly had mebroken shattered I decided life's what mattered You visit mewhen tired and stressed but can't have meI'm...

Poet's Prompt     Erotic or sensual Short Story.Use any of these titles, every word and phrase to inspire your story.Title ChoicesSunset's wild glory,
Miles to go,
Understanding you, The partyWordsSand,
rippled,
stronghold,
in, transient,
lucid,
contentmentPhrasesWith every frosted breath, Lakes of crimson fire, As gently as...

Poetry is painting with words. Painting is poetry without them. Lust is poetry with bodies. Poetry is lust without them. I wonder if someone else has thought of this.