Believing in the Master Plan...un verso a la vez, Dios mio

Love
Is like a fucken game
of hot-hands
I put mine over yours
for a quick second
move them away
before
the sting
of your slap
I don’t avoid all the time.
I put them there again
and I fall asleep
Dare I say it- I’m
too, much in my head
my thoughts wound
rubber band tight
look at my temples
how they’re not revered
they’re mounds of tension.
That’s what my square jaw
is all about, I’m not
really all that
Hollywood
Can’t play the part
in a romantic comedy
cause I get slapped
around by love
Love, love live
Live to love.


Can’t quite
get a handle on what makes
ME so special
Special? that’s me
Questioning the wrong
things again. Your arms
draped around me cuz,
you pecking my face
with kisses cuz
and me
dumb struck not knowing
why? Why are you so happy
why? you giving me so much love
that makes me shy away
shrivel up like a belly button
but not quiet healed.
Heel! Heel!
Makes it stop
Heal, heals
Doesn’t always make it go away
Trusting, accepting kindness
potential love
my Achilles heel
Not gonna fuck it up cuz
Naw, it’s not gonna go down
like that
It’s not gonna go down
My head
My heart
My spirits, keep ‘em high
Keep getting, keep getting
keep ‘em high
these vibes that we feel

I feel
Your strokes
I trust them
the pictures they create
our relationship
a photo novella
my words
Your strokes
I trust them
the vibes
my words to Your brush
Your words to my ears
a composting
for our artistic souls
my collaborator
I’m on the tip, Your tip
said so Yourself
keeping me close
Believe it or not
And I do
Believe in You
That You see
“nada por aqui, nada por aca”
just sincerity pumping
from my heart
Your eternal corroborator
witness to Your force
Love
Is like a fucken game
of hot hands
I put mine over Yours
I wait
Steady, steady
I salivate, get wet a little
Then savor the sting
Over and over
Your hands on
my skin
Your skin
I can smell all day
The scent of metal from Your
Collar, locked around Your neck
hanging next to the key from
the lock around my neck
Your skin
I can smell all day
the cinnamon of it
the spicy chiles from Your garden
the sawdust trapped in Your sweat

Love
Is like a fucken game
of hotness
there where I lie
In between Your crotch
Right there in heaven
in between Your crotch
is heaven
A little piece of heaven
there I lie
there I belong
belong to You
You tell me
“tell Me that you love Me”
I do
cause I belong to You
I look into Your eyes
and tell You that I love You
so much
deeply I do
deeply I will go
with You
You freak
You dreamer
You’re my leap year
a
giver
lover You

Love
Is like
You.

Don't get it twisted

My pieces are not meant to portray BDSM as mean/scary but rather to show how intense sexual/sensual feelings and desires can be, how they are suppressed too, many times cause we are unable to express them for some reason or another. When they are released it can be scary and definitely intense. So yes to homo, yes to sex, yes to eat and be eaten- survival of the fittest. When I look up in the mirror and I don't know who or what is looking back at me...it feels good. The answer is the end. I don't want to know the answer if it'll mean the end. Besides, if I didn't go for the scary I wouldn't be who I am, wouldn't have the Mistress that I have nor be on the path I'm on. Master plan...here we come.

Soldadera de Amor

It is what it is.
A disgrace
a mustache
a uni-brow
on a pretty face.
No matter how much
you consume her
you all can’t be Frida
La sufrida, vivio
su vida.
Subidas y bajadas
Haci es la vida.

Now that there
is someone….(ugh!)
some pain that you
no one
wants to feel
some pain that kills
some pain that makes you
wanna kill
yourself
quick like a leap
or slow like depression
of your soul
put yourself down
down
in a little black box
Aha! Hence my intrigue.
Not my destiny but my mind.
So not free to
so not free
Not expunged of those memories
I say I can’t remember but
como los cargo encima
como el peso del matrimonio
… some pain that makes you wanna kill.
But she didn’t
she didn’t kill herself!
She painted her imperfections
with perfection.
She paints her imperfections
with inflections
with inflections
with inflec-tionnnnnnnnn-ssssssss
Painting deliciousness
on tongues.

She paints her imperfections for me
letting me in to what got into her.
Her spinal column is pillar strong
I see it in her stance.
Her hugs
soft and secure like a tree
I stand with her
I kneel
at her side
near her spats.
Where she likes to see me.
She likes the view
so much so she built herself a tree house
to get a closer look.
Look!
A little piece of heaven.
heaven
haven
of my trust
haven of my lust
haven of my fears and
that big ol’ mean bitch I carried inside me
refusing to let me live
so I thrust that bitch, thrust her out
…almost all out
and into her
Mistress
/
Trust
/
Mistress
/
keeper of…
dominator of…
protector of…

War begets war?
Violence begets violence?
Not to the Soldaderas de amor
aquellas mujeres con el espiritu arañado
que han logrado despues de todo
todo todo aquel rollo…a amar a la vida
“Viva la Vida!”
vivio la vida hasta la muerte
even with her
spinal column\broken
collar bone\broken
ribs, pelvis\broken
her leg 11 times\breaks.
She breaks me down
puts me back together
Coyolxauhqui
moon goddess
surrounded by brothers
the stars
shattering the darkness of the sky
rays of life.

Reik my soul
raking my back
With her nails
/
flogger
\
single tail
…
a trail
3 tracks
mi cuero arañado
…bear claws
she gets beastly on me.
SOY beastia
Por su cuero
Staining my back red
inflaming my back
amor que arde.
Her ass on my head
muffling my thoughts
I feel her legs naked
or in cuero
around my neck.
Dayum!
She gives the best hugs.

War begets war violence begets violence
Search for perfection begets…
Aha! That’s a tricky question
cause I don’t show my imperfections
see
even after a drunken night,
hung-over depressed
waking up in last-night’s outfit
I feign togetherness.

I’ve never been a cheater
but man am I cheating life!
I should be treating life
like a book, a story I want to read
It’s not in our destiny
It’s in our mind.
Please don’t mind
me as I unwind
spiral down
this vortex
called life
it is what it is…

(@= C+A image/Anna P. Sutton: words/Claudia Rodriguez:)