Sign of the Feet

By Nikki Quismondo

your fingertips glide across my toes so slowly
like the soft blades of a Kaleidoscope of senses
strumming through the sunlight memories of our constellations
like guitar notes yearning for Pisces and Virgo moments,
We engage in the Carmel sun as it blazes in it's softest sense
and sets within our golden skin within each and every private moment
your fingertips invite a creamy appetite,
where I dream of warm lovers beginning to trust
the stars illuminate the moonlight fantasies for us,
where flashes of intimacy expose our incandescent feelings,
like a hot oil massage that hypnotizes the planets,
each sense warms every other sense in my body,
each touch wraps around Mercury and Neptune and every other universe!

In between the t.v. and the wine

By Nikki Quismondo

we are like a rose with soft petals and thorny fears
so very vulnerable to the Carmel sun,
but open to the water droplets of soft rain fantasies,
I want to open myself to you, start a new,
and dream of things, like our dinner nights
where you cook for me and we ponder about philosophy
I want to travel with you to the possibilities
place our soft mantra in the sea
where your boat floats upon the
indemnity of soft water bubbles
and a reassurance of easy waves glide
along the soft kiss of my lips
we can fiddle around the ideas
of musical loving and poetic words flushed in blushing cheeks,
or we can lay in the fears of moonlight sorrows,
but there is a soft rose petal waiting to be watered,
and a bottle of hot massage oil setting upon the night stand,
in between the t.v. and the wine....

Like we used to be

By Nikki Quismondo

We used to high five eachother when we bowled a strike
listen to sweet love songs, and look into each other's eyes
you'd read me your sexy poetry
and I'd read you mine
i'd wear sexy heels so you can notice my arch
you'd notice my scarfs, earrings, or sparkling jewelry
and give nice compliments about my ensembles,
but now, that we're not a couple anymore
but still friends,
our bowling games have no high fives,
i've had to change the stations on the radio at your request,
you refuse to notice the colors I'm wearing or even look at me,
the poetry you read is mundane,
you've blocked me from reading my blog
everything about us, is now dull and ordinary..
we are not like we used to be....

Moments in Neptune

By Nikki Quismondo

to feel the earth slip into your tongue,
to rapture a grand piano of notes quilted into your voice
to wrap midnight around your waist
to take a rose petal out for tea
to belong to a daydream of you and me kissing in gold weather
to yield upon a wild field of needs within
to drip into an orchid of aroma therapy
to enter into an open butterfly
to go without remembering the height of your black sea cliff
to take life all into a few breaths in and out of a liquid blue pen
to be able to understand the eleven dimensions that surround us fully,
to be anything inevitable in your world
are the many moments in Neptune in which I'd like to lay upon.

Us in Cartoon

By Nikki Quismondo

My sisters glow in a cartoon image
our smiles are characterized in a liquid effect of happiness
there's Christina, in the pink, who belongs in her own revelation,
and Leslie, who is a star upon a far-reaching sky
There's me, part twin, part delusional but temperate
and Cammile, who's wisdom is kept secret and preserved,
together we are a Laurel tree, with limbs carrying vivacious fruit
we are the the ladies who wrestle with the clock that opposes our seasons
we are the instructors of the midnight breezes, the followers of the Moon Goddess,
the illuminators of the mystic waters,
part grass, part rose bud, part jacuzzi, part hot oil, part antique jewelry, part golfer, part warm jasmine tea, part exotic novel, part rosary bead, part artist, part child, part infant, part grandmother, part mother, part sister.

Sea Cliff

By Nikki Quismondo

Your eyes went away from the table
along with the echoes that formed into
a cascade of doubt

Yesterday you were rubbing my feet
hands of grass brushing against the arches
Tenderly as the days of dinner nights and cabernet

Today, I'm trying to comprehend your soap opera
your heart has made it's own federal law
Pleading its case into the abyss of lonliness

I'm at a point where I may need to dive into your ocean
Your complexity has turned me into a surgeon of hope
I sit at your sea cliffs indecisively

A muse only has inspiration and hope
A lover, ties into your locked body
There must be a middle path!

Liquid Pouring

By Nikki Quismondo

A co-glamorous night
Birds echo into your subtle breeze
The shape of my tongue fits smoothly upon your warm flesh
Every inch of the cocktail arrives at your body
The sweet thirst for more entails a fantasy
More by each waist side
We think of kinky things to do
Your creative mind is the clock of my heart beat
Tonight's activities are full of foreplay and wine.

Your desire is hardened into pumping blood in your veins
It wants to pump into something
it revolves around a volcanic feeling
Emotions drive into the foam of your liquid pouring
Smooth supples embrace my existence
Awakened with a fortitude of a new beginning of pleasure...