7am Ghosts

Drowning in rivers of pleasure brought on by your touch and presence

Being torn apart by your fingers and exploding into pieces

Ecstasy mirorroed by your eyes as they bore into mine

Forcing myself to keep quiet because this is all such a secret yet everyone knows

We crash, collide and float on waves of passion and lust until the sun comes up

7am sharp and our bodies become ghosts that once roamed your bed.



Nestled in between your love and devotion

You cradle my face in your hands like a divine gift from the deepest realms of the universe

Energies crashing and colliding.

Art in it’s most intimate form is feeling you inside me

Around me and with me.

Held in the highest of honors, seated on a throne of passion

You are truly a god I have no qualms of bowing down to

Holding your hand as we rule our own world

I feel so powerful, safe and revered under your love.

You are everything.

–  Writer From Jersey

When The Moon and Love Become One

I’ve always been fascinated by the moon. How she comes alive at night and shines so bright all on her own. While she appears to live in the shadow of the sun and all the other planets, it is her that has captured my eye with her dark mysterious beauty. It is the moon that washes me with peace and love. It is her shroud of enigma, secrecy and subtlety that has piqued my curiosity. I am in awe of her black roots. She is seductive and yearns for me to draw closer. I have a love affair with a woman who’s sign is ruled by the moon. It is fitting that my sign is ruled by the planet of love. Written in the stars, our story has been told long before we even picked up our pens, eyes and hearts in realization.

– Writer From Jersey


Gently plucked from mother Earth’s arms

Into the grasp of a dark lover’s fingers

Inhaling my scent and being consumed by my beauty

I pushed my seed from it’s shell and grew for you

Poked my head out from that black ground

To turn my face towards the sun.

The same sun that shines on you, lover

You have admired my petals for so long

Waiting until they were in full bloom

For you to caress their velvety insides

Pushing your nose into my flesh and even running your mouth to acquire a taste

I want to remain in your garden of wanton and reckless abandon

To thrive as the only flower that grows and grows in ecstasy.


– Writer From Jersey

Spiritual Orgasm

We read each other’s minds like vibes and chakras

Ours are perfectly aligned and synchronized in perfect harmony

Together we gather in this congregation of love and serenity

To worship each other in divine devotion and surrender

Your dominance is my idol that I seek peace in

You enter into my temple gracefully but with the aggression of a zealot

I cry out to you screaming your name in praise and adoration

On my knees head bowed in reverence to you

You are my sacred space, my protector and my healer

Yet your touch, warmth and presence hold me in the highest throne of all

A place where only goddesses rest their heads

You lay down your sacrifices in offering to my temple

It is the most intimate form of worship, held near and dear to me.

It is your love for me that illuminates my astral plane, galaxies and skies.

It is our love that hangs suspended in space orbiting around the moon & sun

In utter perfection.

– Writer From Jersey








I know it is you that can satisfy these deep rooted dark urges for pain & pleasure.

I have glanced at you from afar desiring your dominance over my body.

Never being able to escape that pull from within my soul.

We are both twisted individuals who crave devotion in the highest.

I look to you for security and you look to me for the same.

Satisfaction being reached in the tangle of ropes and sheets

Only we understand this sadistic love we share.

Clinging to our shadows of beautiful disaster.

Losin Control (Jasmine’s Version)

Fell in love once and I lost all control

Fought against the inevitable truth

We just weren’t meant to be

Got sold dreams, goals and beautiful versions of an unfinished story

Only to have it end in a vicious nightmare

Months later, memories haunt my soul

Many have wondered how I grew so cold

Had my entire world ripped from underneath me

By the one who was my world

So you say I don’t let anybody in

I have every reason to be so cautious

For my heart has grown tired, bitter and angry

That was my last straw, the final icing of the cake

I’ve gotten stronger, wiser and smarter

Turned pain into power

Learned to love myself even more

I can only thank my past for gifting me

With this process called progress for the better.

– Jasmine (Writer From Jersey)


Words. I have long been a master of them.

Skillfully manipulating and arranging words to create beauty.

However, I have not encountered those who share this same talent

Only those who use them for evil

Words, so often believed and held in the highest regard

“I love you.” “I’ll never leave you.” “You’re beautiful”

Bruised and beaten with words.

Reeling from the sting of being called useless, a whore and good for nothing

Abandoned by the one who said they would die without me.

Illusions and dreams of being a wife and mother

Only to live a nightmare of pain, regret and anger.

In words, I found healing. I found peace.  I found myself again.

I regained power, freedom and the most profound love a human being can experience

Love for oneself, love for life, love for growth and new beginnings.

Words that once damaged my insides now breathe new vitality in my lungs

I no longer scream in rage but with joy.

– Writer From Jersey

Frequencies and The Curve of Your Hips

I want our time together to mimic that of when artists spend hours in the studio.

Going several rounds creating beautiful sounds

Until that perfect melody and harmony is reached

Your body drops against mine like the perfect bass line

We dance to the rhythm of our own tune

Moans vibrating to achieve that exquisite vibe

The electric frequency between us is so real

I just want us to conceive precious sounds and generate our own music

Replay it over and over but compose a different masterpiece

Switch positions in the orchestra and play each other’s instruments of pleasure

Until the roar is deafening, mind blowing but the grand finale has been reached

We are each other’s biggest fans. Together we are entwined with the music.


She gets so lost in sound waves, frequencies and bass lines

As much as I dive into words, verbs and countless notebooks containing these

Almost how she masters the art of touching every inch of me. 

It’s like I move with every echo of rhythm she puts into place 

An exquisite masterpiece.

We are truly a force of nature when our melodies combine

Creating alluring songs, poems, interludes and monologues 

She is the guardian of sound and I am the supreme of words

Gods of the arts in our personal kingdom of passion. 

– Writer from Jersey