my home

holding you close enough
so that I can sleep
soundly in the
shelter of your



let me make
a home out of

carving love out of
the beauty
of your skin
holding you close enough
so that I can sleep
soundly in the
shelter of your

I find my shelter
hidden deep
in the secret
passages of your

every moment of
my existence
is spent
knees bent
in worship
running my fingers
through your hair
and caressing
the form of you

when I leave the
comfort of You
I am left
lost in the
wilderness, dwelling
in empty huts
that satisfy me not
left with your scent
on my shoulders
like the aged scars
on my heart
your impression
is seen on me

In the end I
always return to
You, bruised
and weathered
and longing to
be one again
bound in embrace
and dwelling
in You


the queen and her crown

This is a contemplation piece of the traditional role and characteristics of a woman in relation to a man. There isn’t much of a resolution but I do wish to explore such in future pieces.

Your back felt firm beneath my fingers
All your life you stood proud
back straight, waist girdled and chest puffed up to the sky
From your first breath you spoke power
At the sight of your difference the world bowed
bowed beneath your back
bowed beneath your chest
slowly submitting to nothing more
than the space below your waist
the world between your thighs

As your sacred realm grew
so did your esteem and ego
And there THEY tell me
There, below Him lies my purpose
And so I cowered below your waist in search
Only to find nothing
After nights of deep motion
And endless devotion
I am left numb
And as you reach your climax
I am left with nothing but a whisper
floating from the shadows

You have stood behind His back
You have bowed beneath His chest
And cowered beneath his hand
You have placed both body and soul at His feet
But still you are nowhere to be found
Have you found yourself?
Where are you my child?
Where are you looking?

I have tasted the depths of His manhood
And my lips have embraced the nothingness of His name
And I find that nothing exists in it nor around it
Nothing for me, at least
I do not belong here
I am no more in Him
than He is in me
Our fleshly entanglements are but
Fingers running through the wind
Cries the Queen
While hanging from the throne of a beggar

by L J Tausili

lost romantics

a piece expressing the completely unstructured and expressive worship expected in the expression of love and devotion for a significant other.

let the strands of my crown grace Your face
as we dance side by side
waist to waist
arm to arm, and
shoulder to shoulder

lay all your emotions on my bosom
as I have, in Yours
speak to my soul
make it beautiful
as you deem fit

show me, Love
the allure You see in my eyes
Reflect them back to me, in Yours

the sheets crumble
like waves between us
as I pull the tides from your shores
leaving bare the sand
of Your hidden Island

let us move within and without
until the clouds give way
to the sky it mounts
dancing in the night
 with wings take flight
no burden on your shoulders
let the rage run free
as we howl at the moon

Deepest Love of mine
You are more to me

more memory than linen
longing for the texture of your lips
I wait in small infinities for your clarity
From the rising to the setting of the sun

I live…
and I wait

if the night had no moon
by the Gods, you can replace it

my heart beats in your direction
only to the rhythm of Your song

just as my sword is drawn at your command
so will my feet rush
to the whisper of your presence


I buff my chest to sway your eyes
But only to see them look deep into mine
with every look
knowing me more and more

as a soldier
I stand guard at your tomb
awaiting your resurrection each day

Oh Love
You are more

know this, at least
Swift Joy of mine
I am no more brighter
than the sun that you are

we were always one
even before we bore the gods
You were mine then
as I am yours, now
bound in the silk fabric
of time and space

let your hair comfort my soul
as my fingers revive your spirit

my Love,

I bow only
beneath your shadow
because you are the stars in my night
my deep need for life, and
the very words to my lamentation

forever the sombre song of the
sleepless mockingbird