Claudia Rodriguez

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, accepti

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.

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