You seek forgiveness for your sins,

Yet the taste of Eve’s apple lingers between the hemispheres of lust.

The serpent entwines us,

My porcelain skin bristling with desire for the touch of your dark hands, longing for pleasure to carve deep into my void.

My dew glistens along our invisible bonds,

You watch from afar,

Temptation takes hold.

© All rights reserved. CLR at theitchthatneeds.wordpress.com 2016

Radio silence

I’m away looking after a family member who has been in hospital. It’s tough. Barely time to think, read, or write.

I’ve collated many scribbled notes in my journal. Whether I will know when I get home what I intended to do with them is another matter. 

I’ve had four different ideas for my series. I’m enjoying letting them drift into my head in brief moments of peace and quiet. It can’t all be bad!
Until then…


Creativity has escaped me for some days, along with everything else.

I can’t read more than short bursts and I’m in a thick fog.

No sparks of pleasure firing between the gaps.

Just a pink skinned bag of biology with questionable motive.

Clint Brown – The Plague Drawings

© All rights reserved. CLR at theitchthatneeds.wordpress.com 2016

2. I’m Not A Weirdo

An email notification flashed on her screen, diverting her attention from the documentation she was working on. Just as the alert slid out of view, her brain processed the subject line. She sensed a flutter in the pit of her stomach. She tried hard not to think too much about that morning. It had been some weeks since it happened. Her face flushed.

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