Come and read Tosha’s intimate and erotic “Besot With Fire”
I don’t want a dehydrated love
that lives somewhere between
purgatory and just good enough.
I’d rather bust my knee on the sidewalk,
bruise my arm and cheek on the wall,
crash my bike on a rocky path, crack my
wrist for a love full of oxygen caught fire.
Turning blue to red. Scarlett Crimson.
I don’t want to be rescued from the flames.
I want to be wrapped in them
Let’s lose the word complacent,
and replace it with passion.
Trust that a love full of imperfections
is more interesting than one
full of perfect nothingness.
Let’s get pleasantly disoriented
on a bed of salacious.
Where everything we need
is a finger trail away.
Let’s follow the glint of rosebuds
and not be afraid to step on the
thorns.
Let’s create a love of different rooms
we can waltz into.
Now a lover.
Now a friend.
Now a sexy…
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The Reluctant Poet 