Shame — but not mine. — I was cruising through life And realized in my 30s That I was carrying something And hiding it too I took a good look at this thing And I’ve decided it’s not mine I’ll put it here in plain sight This is not my shame I used to call it…

The blinds are shut — I lie in a bed of tasks Sunshine bang bang bangs On my window No, I can’t today On these days Shopkeepers scowl Dog owners are disappointed Even the dogs sniff me with contempt In my mind My children have a mother upgrade And the husband a better wife My life is awesome…

Fuck you, pay me — Let’s assume there is a male Kookoo and a female Kookoo. I love the idea of having a penis. But in real life, I do not. We are both looking for jobs. We both spend quality time on cover letters, a sparkling portfolio, and various tests. Let’s assume the pandemic…

Fourtyfour = Four Haikus — Happy Birthday You turn forty-four. Every day I love you more. Come, pamper galore. 2. All of you in all of me You fill me up, XXX. My soul, sex, mouth, brain, heart, hands. It’s never enough.

Etiquette for 2021 — I write this from the perspective of someone who’s been in this ‘scene’ on 2 continents, from a time when we were called swingers, and it was super underground, lol. I write this because I’ve seen articles about how to negotiate non-monogamy with your partner. But the idea is that…

Pandemic Lovers — A gift A taste A little tease Before we ever meet Wearing nothing but a black eye Without an ounce of irony Or a sprinkle of smut On his terribly cute face Cropped just below Those two delectable lines Where his legs Meet his torso “I cut the dick. Didn’t want…

Hey Sarah, I'm writing anonymously, so I've been writing to a tiny audience. It makes the writing very free, but after a while creating into a vacuum... is as strange as isolation in a pandemic 😂. Would you consider published work? Either way, I've got some fun stuff coming. Do add me to your list. Thanks very much.

From the depths of lockdown — I didn’t write a hot sex scene It would have been limited By my imagination Did you know I love talking to strangers And if I met a Craver I’d throw him questions Just to keep him A little bit longer Your voice So calm, soaked In something moist Through little square glass I watch you Slowly unfold When I’m free to roam again Maybe you’ll feel like Inviting me to where Your energy flows

she said, looking me square in the eye, holding the tweezers in her hand. I was 16. My incredibly beautiful, dark-skinned, truth-speaking cousin in her early 20s, formally ushered me into a world of endless wanting. — At 43, self-crafting eyebrows, is a source of pride. For years, they were professionally done - by talented women from India, holding one end of a long white thread in between their teeth, and the other in a ninja knot that pulls exactly the correct pieces of eyebrow off my…