In matters of love it’s tempting to be picky. But never forget, inside every cherry, no matter how delicious—you’ll always find a stone.

The Eleventh First Date

“I do rather enjoy these random little drives into the country. How we always seem to find a quiet place to park. Far away from prying eyes,” Sophia said, quickly checking her lipstick in the rearview mirror.

“This spot looks perfect,” I replied.

Sophia pressed down on the brake pedal and slowly steered the white Bentley into the rest stop, which was surrounded by beautiful oak trees and overlooked a vista of rolling green fields.

“Yes this will do nicely,” she said, turning off the ignition.

I could already hear the excitement in her voice as she unclipped her seat belt and pulled up her gray pleated cotton skirt, revealing a pair of white panties and pale winter thighs.

“You know, this dirty little game of yours is quite mad and terribly kinky.”

“Oh, hush now,” she cooed, opening her legs a fraction wider on the tan leather seat. “Just pretend it’s our first date again and give my pussy a damn good fingering.”

—

The afternoon sun slowly slipped away behind the trees—leaving behind a dying sky of sunset orange and shadowy clouds.

“It’s such a crying shame we only get to live a single lifetime,” Sophia sighed.

I took her delicate hand in mine and pressed it to my lips. Softly kissing each finger. “Every second spent with you is a lifetime. Every hour—an eternity.”

I Want Your Love

I want your love—

every color

of the rainbow.

Every drop

of winter rain.

And when you

give it to me—

it will never

be enough.

Perfection

Perfection is a race that can never be won.

Riding the Subway

Lifeless verse—

written with a dead pen.

Black ink spilt

on a cold December,

riding the subway

in an endless loop.

Where lonely drunks

meet rejected lovers.

A swig of sorrow

inside every bottle,

but never enough

to dull the pain.

A brown paper bag

therapy session—

of shattered dreams

and broken hearts.

Priorities

Possessions are temporary. There are no storage units in the afterlife.

The Mad Princess

She wore a silver tiara

and white bikini,

dancing backward

across the sand.

In her palace—

only madness reigns.

This princess

doing somersaults,

chasing thunderbolts—

drinking champagne

in the rain.

The Hardest Goodbye

I knew I had to set you free. To put my feelings aside and let love slip through my fingers. It wasn’t easy. But if you try to keep hold of a butterfly—you run the risk of crushing it.

The Broom Closet

There was an almost surreal element to Serena’s sexual desires.

And tonight was no exception.

There were no scattered rose petals or tiny lit candles.