Thursday, February 13, 2014

I Love The Smell of Leather In The Morning...

There is a treacherous substance that flows through these fragile veins. Delightful yet toxic in large doses. Addictive and uncontrollable. Just as the warmth of sunshine on cool alabaster skin is addictive, yet can be fatal for us mere mortals. This substance permeates every pore of my being, every thought and every word that escapes my parched lips. Parched from the intense thirst for knowledge and adventure. This substance slips defiantly out of my tear ducts and escapes down the curve of my cheek in silent protest to the life I have chosen. My blistered tongue clumsily forms the unspoken.
My first "serious" heels bought way back when I was 22 - they just had to be black snakeskin and over 6 inches, naturally ;)
My 8-inch fetish heels...I love adding a little touch of vulgarity with an otherwise wholesome outfit.
James Bond villain?
My dear, departed baby crow Pistolero (now you have the proof that I am madly in love with anything related to Robert Rodriguez, ha!). This was his "hungry" face - if you could only have heard the ruckus he made begging for food!

Pistolero and I had an amazing bond...after all, we're both menacingly dark and therefore, misunderstood.
RIP my feathered partner in crime.
This was a project I did defending a woman's right to cover herself.

A lusty, sleek panther with hypnotic emerald eyes...

As the glowing ember of the sun dies,
She sheds her porcelain doll disguise,
Transforms into a lusty, ink black panther,
With hypnotic emerald eyes.

They call her the girlchild seductress,
Beg her for one painted pixie pout kiss,
She, the accidental temptress,
Amateur guide this little miss is.

Comrade Von Pussycat circa 2007

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