(a submissive’s soliloquy) I am beauty in silver silence—metal bites my wrists and ankles,each click a reminderthat I long for. Gagged,not to silence me—but to reinforcethat begging is not my right.Only moans,muffled and soaked,can pass through this leather bloom. He watches—patient as...

Tell all the truth but tell it slant — Dickinson     You must tell Verity but slant itIt dazzles if too boldMakes it far too sharp to graspEven when it's retold A flash direct blinds simple SoulsAs Mysteries revealMore depth than Spotlights...

Rough, Raw, Righteous Tongue presses deep—not a kiss, but conquest,a moan muffled in the mouth,a gasp stolen before it can rise. Fingers probe my moistness—not gentle, but knowing,with relentless intent,mapping every slick secret. My wrists pinned overhead—you are gravity,I am undone.Each breath...

I love living a life in this inkpenning my words up to the brinkthe very edge of every pagecrafting poems salient and sage Burn my candle down to its wickwhile I pen within inks ever thickall across these thinnest of...

—A Griot’s Song for Gambia— I sing of this land where rivers speak—while The Gambia flows in her verse,as narrow as a whisper,yet wider than a mother’s hug. For its waters are never silent—humming with shouts of traders,drummers, poets, and dreamers,naming...