| Anthro / Traditional Media / Drawings | ©2008-2012 ~ChristinsWaltz |
Us by ~ChristinsWaltz

Lips of a Dream warm tongues in a soft mouth,Lips of a Dream by ~ChristinsWaltz
pull and swirl and push,
the lips of a dream,
on the grass of a body,
moving and feeling,
the hot air for a sigh,
to slow it all down.
biting for Love to a storm,
a reckless leap on sheets,
between fingertips and ankles,
after tracing to press a chest,
return, return, return,
lips of a dream.


Black is not Red. Red dishware despair,Black is not Red. by ~ChristinsWaltz
Scarlet fragmented glass wants-
to feed. Is hopeless.
School by ~ChristinsWaltz

The First Time. Root, minor third, perfect fourth, tritone, perfect fifth, minor seventh.The First Time. by ~ChristinsWaltz
Your face, my knee, your hands, my waist, your lips, my neck.
I guess I was expecting it. It's not like I hadn't thought about it. And we were alone. I really knew after you stood on a slightly higher spot on the hill then me, and pressed your lips against my forehead and your whole body against mine. That felt good enough, really. Absolutely nothing was going on in my mind. Nothing. It was an abyss of touch. Nothing was running through my mind, that is, until you kissed me. Then I started thinking again. I started thinking about a voice lesson I had probably over a