FinnessaWilliams's profile
AGE:
36
LOC: Twin Lake, MI
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: October 01
LOC: Twin Lake, MI
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: October 01
I am a tough critic. More of myself and then next, others. Especially when it comes to writing.
I don’t expect folks to understand my motives, but I expect people not to attack because they don’t understand.
My writing isn’t personal. About 95% is my imagination. That’s probably why people think I’m a man, and when it comes to writing, that is a huge compliment.
If you come to my page because you didn’t like my review. Read some of my work and then maybe you will understand who I am.
I offer no apologies in any way.
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Items
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A pillow. A pillow, your head as a billow of cloud in this great big room. African safari, The beautiful Kalahari and you my huntress this box your fortress. An adventure is love in rivers of sheets A Garden of Eden Blessed in fig Leaves Sound is proof in four walls Cat calls and growls Magnificent growls The bed our cradle that our bodies rock we watch where we Fall on the floor a pasture of grass stradling a discarded clothes ocean and you look: you see the sea we see There lies a civiliati...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
36 Reviews
15 Comments
I know you wanted a chance to be born. Only I, mother-in-waiting hadn’t been born again. It’s true, I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m glad you never asked again dear daughter. I could not refuse your plea for this life with me. You never questioned your mother’s wisdom. Never seen, nor heard obedient baby; phantom feelings of your body warm inside mine. At no time mistaken as my or your daddy’s maybe baby. So many years ago It felt right to return you, tags still on; and now I am still sure. I know ...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
52 Reviews
56 Comments
Picture you: On cold days, your lips chap. I see the visible dust of dry skin, I kiss you anyway. I feel the scrape of your lips You apologize, I say never mind. After, your lips taste of Carmex, The strength of Camphor Tingle my lips, chills them. You blow frozen smoke into the air, Mention you are cold, Hide your hands in your pockets. That crazy hat I made you From a Moda Dea pattern at the hobby store, Red and black, and yellow and black and green and black. The pom-pom was difficult, But...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
56 Reviews
54 Comments
He blows my candle to the quick with short huffs and long puffs moist with spittle accentuated by burning sighs. Moving to my tapered thighs that ignite from rubbing baby soft stubble. Friction. He bows to my volcano chanting breathy prayers- erupting in orgasm, hot with wax, flowing like lava from an angry fertility goddess- amorous. Beligerent passion, malevolent flame sweating from pores and cools, flickering finally under a twisted topsheet.
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
91 Reviews
68 Comments
This could be number one or more. What the hell, I don't know what makes me pack and unpack. My love is in this suitcase with lacy brassieres and underwear not so attractive. As I struggle (not with him) (but with me). My will sounds like a zipper, breaking and floats to the ground like receipts from the hotels you took her to--more expensive every time. I'm weaker than the trashbags on the curb with your things in them... this time I'm not leaving. You are.
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I will be honest, I am not Jamaican, but I am black. And I will say that nothing about this resonated with me. I nearly passed this up because I get sick of whole 40 acre and a mule business, but I have a tendency to put a fresh spin on things, so I figured I would give someone else a shot. From the stand point of a Jamaican, I don't see why a jamaican would cry about 40 acres and a mule? This side of the black struggle as far as I've been taught doesn't extent to the island. this ya country ...
Is this about vampires? If it is, it is only clear at then end. I struggled with this, trying to decide what were you trying to say? My guitar strings have strectched out to its limit At this point I thought this would be about music, and as it went on, I was confused about the eyes part, but I let it go anyway. Drink your tea and smoke your pipes This was a great line, yet it stopped short because it seemed to cut the poem nearly in half, and it derailed whatever it was you were trying to co...
line three at: she lets go and then the following line are awkward. I suggest moving "she lets go" to a new line. too wet, too heavy- She lets go, the line for a clothes pole out of reach... "clothes pole" doesn't sound right, it feels like you couldn't think of the right word to call it. I felt at then end, it was too literal. I felt like the clothes scenario was an analogy or a metaphor and because you started with the mention of a woman and sweat, you should have returned to the female and...
I have to say, the beginning of this is weak, but the middle is great. Portions of the middle gave me some little chills: the skin feel a heartbeat and the heart feel like the skin during a whirlwind, a fire, or a concert when the eardrums dance up and down, chiming as though heaven were hand-delivered. It painted a strong picture and for an instance I saw myself on a picnic at a symphony concert. That was strong I felt the imagery was. But before and after were not written the same way. I di...
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