Take the time to have a read of my latest story post on PUT A WEDGE IN IT BLOGS :::

Are We An Us?

Please Enjoy!





I’m touching me with you in mind

I’ feeling you all over me

All around me, all in me

My body craves the REAL you

But gladly acts as your sensual surrogate


I’m feeling you while touching me

I hear your voice in my head

And I feel all the words

In my every breath, my every pore

I feel, I want, I need, I crave …

Every feeling begins and ends with “YOU”

Every single breath is punctuated

By wicked, juicy thoughts of you


My hands crave and need to feel you

My body goes on point at the sound of your name

You say things to me about me

That takes my breath away

I love that my voice brings

Your body to willing attention


We touch us, and feel each other

The mutuality is all we need

Till we can feel and reach and touch

And explore and satisfy what needs to be satisfied

Then die to live and die again

Please touch me

But this time …

Touch more than my soul.




Yeah I know you were expecting “I love you”, but I have come across three words that pertain to me — and right now they hold more power.

You see … these words are very much alike yet they are extremely different –


Confused much? Don’t be …


I’ve been, I sadly confess, a deer caught in headlights – waiting to be rescued by someone who would tell me that I didn’t need to say anything … that they understood and heard what was in my heart. I’ve stood in those headlights, longing for the arrival of my supposed Knight in shining armour, who would step out from behind those bright as hell headlights and scoop me up into his strong and competent arms from the path of the oncoming ‘chariot’ and save me from all impending danger. Unfortunately it never happened … the knight didn’t arrive, at least not in time – and invariably I was left to languish under the bus, wallowing in unrequited love, hurt, disappointment, anger and sadness. The ones that I kept near and dear before didn’t hold me in such high esteem. They preferred what they preferred and usually it was someone who they declared to be toxic and unworthy of their love and my worry. The truth is that they declared this so many times that their speeches usually ended up being read by the Universe as declarations of love and passion.

Having seen the cold hard light of dawn, I would be the one to detach and free them to languish in their self imposed toxicity while I licked my wounds … silently – yet again – wondering why it is they couldn’t see what I couldn’t say … all because no one held me …


Oh to be dear to someone … that’s really all I’ve wanted – to be held in high and precious regard … to be the one whom others are willing to tilt at windmills for, and to feel moved to do the same.

To be dear is to be precious … to be thought of as special, worth fighting for, even if it means fighting with self. Holding someone dear makes us dear ourselves. Just as our dear ones glow, so do we … as they smile, so do we … it’s a wonderfully symbiotic relationship. Being held dear allows us permission to …


Dare to be different … dare to step out of the headlights … dare to speak out and into your own life. We dare to say all of the things that we’ve been storing up inside while we stood in those infamous headlights. We dare to be true to self and to the ones we hold dear. Finally we get to the point where nothing short of a watershed moment would give life to all that we have wanted so desperately to speak into being … to give life to.

So basically …
I was a deer until someone held me dear and as a result I now dare to be all the things that others believed that I could be – even when I didn’t – and all the things that I knew were locked deep inside but didn’t dare be.

I am changing, journey with me … I am a work in progress, but what progress I have made … all because I have now taken the time to dare …

Today I dare to fall through my fears because unless I do, I will never know what waits for me, and I will never sprout the appropriate wings that I will need for this flight…