Profile cover photo
Profile photo
Melanie Mills
459 followers -
so hip it hurts
so hip it hurts

459 followers
About
Melanie's posts

Post has attachment
this is funny. You have to take me at my word. Of course I always think I'm funny

Midnight Temptation

Only the stars know our rendezvous 
as I slip surreptitiously to the beach.

My skin,
bronzed and perfumed with coconuts,
glistens with a thin layer 
of sweat and moonbeams.

I lift all my worries
and my dress 
over my head.

Truly naked before you,
timid and hormone-drenched,
I get lost in the sensual scent
of your nearness. 

Intoxicated,
I glide to you with no reservations,
embracing you inch by inch.

Soon I am meeting 
each of your powerful thrusts with my hips braced,

until you fulfil a deep need in me,
until I scream with ardent pleasure,
until my kids see me and yell,

"for God's sake, Mom, come to shore and put some clothes on!"




© Mgmills poem and artsy-fartsy

Photo

Post has attachment
Cheshire


supernova eyes
above Cheshire moon smile

serial psychotic


© Mgmills poem and photo and art
Photo

Post has shared content
for Granny Polly

Strawberry Spring


The heat came on today
like an unexpected wave,
streaming through my window.

I closed my eyes and smelled
the flowers of your garden—
a younger me ducking between the rows. 

Once my eyes opened,
the sun stung almost as much as your absence.

I tried to save you—
my lips pressed to yours.
I could taste the cancer in your breath.

I bought carnations at the market today.
You always said roses were for the hoity toity.

© Melgmills poem and pic
Photo

Post has attachment
for Granny Polly

Strawberry Spring


The heat came on today
like an unexpected wave,
streaming through my window.

I closed my eyes and smelled
the flowers of your garden—
a younger me ducking between the rows. 

Once my eyes opened,
the sun stung almost as much as your absence.

I tried to save you—
my lips pressed to yours.
I could taste the cancer in your breath.

I bought carnations at the market today.
You always said roses were for the hoity toity.

© Melgmills poem and pic
Photo

Post has attachment
Canvas

An empty page
can be a garbage bag:
A place to vomit
all my regurgitated pain,
all those picked at scabs
of wounds that have festered
sometimes for decades
and my discarded flesh
where I've hacked down to the bone
looking for hidden snippets of reality
to reveal to the world.

But

a blank page
can be a souvenir pouch
where I save morsels of beauty and light
to dust off when I need them most.

© Melgmills pic and poem
Photo

Post has attachment
If you've not seen it I highly recommend it! Coming to Google play soon for 14.99

Post has attachment
Nuff said.

Post has attachment
scale( senryu)


measuring each word
rolled on my tongue carefully
weighing the consequences

© Mgmills poem and image

Photo

Post has shared content
Boost
My Granddaughter... Someone.. Anyone.. please call the number if you've seen her 
Photo

Post has shared content
i have the flu that you'd never want



Biohazard


I am aware of the trail I leave.

My brain is full of spikes;
my head nods, and one slips

shaped like an icicle crashing to the ground.

But it isn’t cold, no, it sheers a hole clean through the bedrock.
I am tempted to toss a stone and count, but
I cannot bend over for fear of the consequences. 

Kilimanjaro is squatting on my doorstop and I
must navigate the tangled viper wires
without touching my skin;
it is so frail it wafts off with the gentlest breeze. 

My lungs gulp in streams of steam,
and exhale chunks of dust. 

The hall is a catacomb,

dank and full of
spider webs resembling the dead,

my personality slowly disintegrating with each
pulsing step.

If only I could reach my bed,
I might save the world. 
Photo
Wait while more posts are being loaded