Wild animal
– resonate in me
Violent Love
Tender Brutality
Snake, lion,
tiger or sheep
– Passionate,
almost Violent Love,
to: shy,
submissive,
meek
Only 50 shades of grey?
That is what I
want to say
– That Hollywood crap
you can keep…
© Kait King, 2017
Sexy Siren
in
satin red
Your luxurious folds
fall over
my head
Touching me
with the sagaciousness of a
man’s hand,
you rest
on my hips
The swing and
the sway
move like gloss
covered lips
as I turn to walk away
A hand grabs me and
pulls me
to bed
© Kait King, 2016

When I wake up
next to you
My heart just
wants to burst
In my sleep
I miss you
Like a screaming
blazing thirst
I drag myself
to work and back
just to see your smile
watch TV
talk a little
and make love for a while
when our rumbling
hungry stomachs
lever us out of our lovers’ nook
naked, we open and close cupboards
looking for something to cook
© Kait King, 2015
Like a moth
dancing
tantalizing
directionless
you gaze at me
and slowly
coax me in
I know my wings
will burn to ashes
My heart
it bursts in fire
but even though
I’m burning
and the flames will swallow
me whole
my destiny
remains nameless
by choices
never made
© Kait King, 2015
Everyone is so obsessed with winning at everything – work, sports, relationships – absolutely everything. I wonder if those people who are so focused on winning every argument, every game, every decision – have ever thought that they can let it go – like everybody’s a winner in the biggest race of all as far as I’m concerned. If you’ve been born then you have won the biggest race of all! You are a winner – the biggest winner out of millions of other sperm that were in a race for life – I am a winner – we won! Now let’s just succeed at being our own very best here instead of obsessing about being better than someone else’s best…
Write Kait
Write Kait
Write some more
So I spread my mind
Like the legs of a
whore
Make yourself write, Kait
It’s not at your leisure
Even being forced
could be a hidden pleasure
Type Kait
Type Kait
And type some more
so my fingers
fly over keys
of some succulent score
© Kait King, 2016
In a bigamist dual
you fight in your cheating bed
Secret office glances
and secret bathroom head
At home it’s just too boring
you don’t want to fuck your wife
but if she finds out
It will ruin your life
© Kait King, 2015
Scribble me
into your life
Pen me
into your mind
Feel me
in tactile braille
So I can read you
if I’m blind
Then, touch me with
a purity – like
a crisp white paper sheet
Write me
into a love story
Our blending ink –
A story complete
© Kait King, 2016
When we are
touching skin
when you have
let me in
With a dream-like
essence
I feel your
presence
the heat from
your skin
when you let me in
I know there
are no lies
I can see it
in your blue eyes
I can feel it
from your mouth
I can hear it in
your blazing skin
when you let me in
the goose bumps on
your flesh
and our kiss
can only express
we are so lost
it must be a sin
but only when
you let me in
© Kait King, 2015
Hi babe
There you are lying –
fast asleep
You are softly snoring
and my heart still
misses a beat
As the love in me
is so great
there is nothing I need
to contemplate
This is how you are to me
in all your vulnerability
but you will always be safe with me
if you can love – it will set you free
© Kait King, 2015
Gingerly I type the words, wondering if I may be the only person who thinks like this. god’s daughter is turning out to be more appalling than horrific, more repulsive than disgusting. I can feel her like black tar in my mind. She calls me to write her out – to layer her like a black wedding cake, all the details – the spiders, the webs, the cockroaches, the mould and dusty aura of her mind. The corners of her life are all in shadow, a shadow I have to be brave enough to step into and feel the darkness that is god’s daughter. She wants to be created but she doesn’t want me – I am nothing to her, just like everyone else.
And she is nothing like me…
That’s a bad combination
A Lover who’s a Man
It doesn’t matter,
you see
’cause he’ll take it
if it’s free
Yeah…that’s a
bad combination
a Lover
who’s a Man
© Kait King, 2015
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