twenty-fifth hour

In that bewitching hour. When angels weep.

I pray the lord. My soul to keep.

Should I.

Fall from grace.

I pray the demons. Teach me tricks.


To innocence.

In that moment. When life meets. Death. Or sin.

This. Is your beginning.

For you live as there is no other. Way to live. When death is nigh.

But unfeared. So fear not.

For dark is the night. So you embrace. Her glory. Her sensuality. Her power.

And let her indigo arms. Sweep you up. Into a moment of. Hedonistic pleasure.

Where lace meets. Skin. Teeth. Floor.

So sigh. Your euphoric sigh. Of ecstasy.

And your soul screams. For all the lost dreamers. Who never came home.

But you are. Here.

Welcome to.

Your twenty-fifth hour.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2014

fifteen hours

Was it the lack of sleep. The distance between. The spirit of libation. In his blood.

Was it the change of cities. The weeks that passed. The adrenaline of travel. In yours.

Was it that you hadn’t seen. Each other. For weeks on end. Of aching hearts. The long locks. The designer stubble. That was never before.

Broad shoulders. As you remember them. Muscled arms. Encompass you.

Your very own. Italian adonis.

So why did you. Let it go. As the witches. Cackle their envy. Aren’t you a lucky girl.

Because it was easier. To keep love at bay.

But for fifteen hours. Of decadence. Did you reconnect. Skin on skin. Heartbeat against heartbeat. Soul to soul.

Memories of the past. Try to regain their composure. But fail. Miserably.

As you live. In your heart. Not your head. Nor his. Nor allowing his.

And that one look. Of eyes meeting. In an understanding. Of complete abandonment.

His piercing blue eyes. Unguarded. Love. As it should be.

Intense. Desire. Doubtless. Dauntless. A pure moment. Of love.


Be here. With me. My love.

As he welcomes you. Home.

And nothing else. As love exists. In a vacuum.

Within these. Fifteen hours.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2014


So they called the grey suits in.

To tear up the deeds. Break the bonds.

Served and subpoenaed. In the red.

And they have granted. Overdrafts. Extra time. Increased credit limits.

In pardon. Of the crisis.

But the debt is hemorrhaging. Through the roof. And the radicals are crying foul.

For you have made. Your last withdrawal. There is none left to be devoured.

So the suits have called. The time of death. An authorized state of disrupt.

This emotional bank account.

Is officially declared.

Well and truly. And completely sanctioned.


Copyright © whoisannawatts 2014

state of reverie

Lay with me.

In a half-sleep slumber. Under the clouds.

Watch them form. Into shapes.

As the breeze licks. Our skin.

And the waves. Lap at our feet.

Sun kissed shoulders. Squinty eyes. Lazy smiles.

Dream with me.

To another time. And place.

Where fantasies run free.

And love lived a life. Full of hope.

Within you. Within me.

Soar with me.

Where the angels. Tread.

With wings of gold.

On clouds of snow.

High above Olympus.

Love with me.

Within a passionate. Blood red heart.

Immortal as the gods. Who fought for our love.


Be with me.

Close your eyes. Breathe. My love.

Hear the wind rustle through. The evergreen leaves.

And our cares drift away.

Where freedom breathes. Within my heart.

In this. Beautiful.

State of reverie.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2014


They say you can’t survive. Wearing your heart on your sleeve. For the beasts. Will tear you down.

But there are a million of them out there. Who feed on. The bleed of your heart. Who will break. Your heart. Your spirit. Your soul.

And they will try.

It’s up to you. Not to let them.

The journey. You understand now. Was meant to be.

To break you. Completely. Then mold you into. This brand new being.

Stronger. Wiser. Leaner.


Able to numb yourself. Completely. To the white noise. Of the empty vessels.

Around you.

To the beasts. Who now serve. Just cause.

As you know. What it’s like. To eat humble pie.

And accept. This is your journey.

For you are not ashamed. Of the way. Your heart beats.

So go on. They can try. To break you.

But never will.

Thirteen. You have arrived.

Welcome home. Warrior.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2014


Throw your colors on me.

Burst your flames of love.

Wait with me until. The stars shoot. Again.

Across the sky.

Indigo as my eyes.

Butterfly my insides.

Kisses on my skin. Against yours.

Soft flutters of warmth. Sweet tender energy.

Still my beating heart. Full of butterflies.

Enchanted. As the Earth spins. Around Orion’s belt.

Overflow your cup. Runneth over. For me.

And we shall be. Winged.

Hovering. Gently. Like butterflies.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2014


Hello you Italian stallion. Chiseled head to toe in your six foot three vessel.

Twenty-six. And ready to. Conquer the world.

Battled the cross of kings for me. Chased me down like a hurricane.

And like a cyclone. Chasing still.


Do you reminisce. To seduce my heart.

Tall. Dark. And oh so handsome.

Melt the girls. Their hearts a flutter.

Yet here you are.

But don’t I remember. What it was like. With you.

So let’s remind me.

Sweet. Tender. Heat.

Legs. Shoulders. Chest. Italian charm sweetness.

And a wicked. Sense of humor.

So bring my curves. Home to you. Shall I.

Peek a boo a little show and tell.

Exquisite. As you remember. Me.

Flash that devilish grin. Strut that stride.

Watch your hair. Fall in your eyes. Skips my heart. A beat.

Nothing latent. Of this heat.

So drop that Armani suit. Bvlgari cufflinks.

Welcome back to the ring. Now let’s rumble.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2014


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