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Angela St. Lawrence is the reigning queen of high-end phone sex, providing esoteric depravity for the aficionado, specializing in Erotic Fetish, Female Domination, Cock Control, Kinky Taboo and Sensual Debauchery. To make an appointment or speak with Ms. St. Lawrence  CLICK HERE.

How to Find Your Bliss

April 16th, 2014

pleasing me schedule

start here:

Correction Imprinting Obedience Servitude

1-800-863-5478
ext: 0331122

one single syllable …

April 14th, 2014

Permission Granted

by David Allen Sullivan

You do not have to choose the bruised peach
or misshapen pepper others pass over.
You don’t have to bury
your grandmother’s keys underneath
her camellia bush as the will states.

You don’t need to write a poem about
your grandfather coughing up his lung
into that plastic tube—the machine’s wheezing
almost masking the kvetching sisters
in their Brooklyn kitchen.

You can let the crows amaze your son
without your translation of their cries.
You can lie so long under this
summer shower your imprint
will be left when you rise.

You can be stupid and simple as a heifer.
Cook plum and apple turnovers in the nude.
Revel in the flight of birds without
dreaming of flight. Remember the taste of
raw dough in your mouth as you edged a pie.

Feel the skin on things vibrate. Attune
yourself. Close your eyes. Hum.
Each beat of the world’s pulse demands
only that you feel it. No thoughts.
Just the single syllable: Yes

See the homeless woman following
the tunings of a dead composer?
She closes her eyes and sways with the subways. Follow her down,
inside, where the singing resides.
________________________________

Particularly lovely, hm?

So much so that I might tape it to my forehead. Or at least keep it in the white Dooney & Bourke (Thank you, Puzzler) that I just switched to for Spring.

Just so I might remember to say: Yes

Mr. Sullivan’s books at Amazon.

The only girl he ever shagged …

March 31st, 2014

Don’t Feed the Manimals

March 23rd, 2014

Never Offer Your Heart to Someone Who Eats Hearts

Alice Walker

Never offer your heart
to someone who eats hearts
who finds heartmeat
delicious
but not rare
who sucks the juices
drop by drop
and bloody-chinned
grins
like a God.

Never offer your heart
to a heart gravy lover.
Your stewed, overseasoned
heart consumed
he will sop up your grief
with bread
and send it shuttling
from side to side
in his mouth
like bubblegum.

If you find yourself
in love
with a person
who eats hearts
these things
you must do.

Freeze your heart
immediately.
Let him—next time
he examines your chest—
find your heart cold
flinty and unappetizing.

Refrain from kissing
lest he in revenge
dampen the spark
in your soul.

Now,
sail away to Africa
where holy women
await you
on the shore—
long having practiced the art
of replacing hearts
with God and Song.

Phone Domme will Ease that Stress

March 22nd, 2014

keep-calm-and-call-miss-angela



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