Rose Red, Snow White


I Love her…

            Frosty stillness suffocates the mountain noise. This moment is calm, honest, and peaceful. The winter storm that extended our romantic getaway had longed passed. The valley now was shrouded in a glistening white silence. Our beautiful snow-clad cabin and the lake reflect the coming morning glow. If it were not for the blood and the bodies, this would have been a soothing setting instead of something out of a horror novel.

“My Charming…” Kassidy would whisperer while falling asleep in one another’s arms after a blissful spell of lovemaking. Reminiscences and reality overlying each other. Moans of pleasure, mixed with the now fading pain of anguish…

     The storm tried to bury secrets, but blood is hard to get out, even in memories. It pulls, calling out for attention, shimmering in the morning light.

            Snow white is stained in a deep seething red. Heated tears fell the length of my face mixing with the blood and dirt. It was the only bit of warmth I could feel. “U-unforgivable…” the word struggles to fall from my lips; a white mist of exhaustion leaves instead.

A blanket of frost had settled perfectly still around me. My cold hands were a filthy mix of red, sweat, and brown. Kassidy, my beautiful darling wife, appears frozen as I look over at her sweet face, now stained in blood. Red, Kassidy moaning while lips suckle her neck.

She was not frozen by the chill whisper of the wind but by time. I wanted to refuse the truth; I encased Kass in a snow globe, but reality had done more than shake; it quaked from prolonged exposure to the harsh weather.

            These lasting thoughts strobed with red and white like filters. White, Kassidy smiled in a heavenly glow while we stood at the altar holding hands, and she said, “I do.” Red, Kassidy, and I in the passion of our love. White, our cabin was the home away from home, rebuilt with wholesome memories giving any husband or father a sense of pride. Red, loud cries in the rain were now turning to icy echoes. White, Zion playing in Queens Lake without a care in the world. In his amazement when we discovered a white rose near the only neighboring building miles from these woods. An abandoned place where Kass would spin tales of witches, good and evil-red, deep thrust, Kassidy’s mouth uncontrollably screams as he buried himself deeper into her. The reality shook me, “I killed him… I killed him; I killed him.”

            Kassidy “Jo” Lawton, My Heart. My Wife. My Queen. Her stare showed no peace or reset as the sticky red fluid pooled in the snow, further soiling its lush, pure beauty.

Sullivan Grey, though unscripted, played his part in all of this. Sullivan’s face was fixated on me with mismatched eyes of brown and blue. Heterochromia is a rare trait for this strange man; if only I saw through those dreadful eyes long ago for what they were, lethargic with self-satisfaction. Sullivan Salazar Grey was the man to disrupt all of this, to shatter our love for his needs, playing games with those lasting words still cracking what I desperately want to preserve.

“What does a liar do when he’s dead?”

What pleasure did he truly experience as the illustrator of this drawn-out novella of love and catastrophe? I gravely wanted to blame him, but it wouldn’t be the actuality, just me running from the truth again, right, Kass? This was long written in scarlet. Finally, we made it to the irrevocable end of it all, the closing curtain.

              When I see her with fading life, I see our son; he inherited Kass’s brown eyes. Reflecting the truth, their silence answered louder than anything they could voice. The if onlys, maybes, and questions are ephemeral concepts now. Yet, I wanted to believe it could have been different. There was a part of me that wanted to have faith in that. The naïve part. The dreamer. “I could give you many excuses, but the truth is, we are victims of our vices.”

            White, Kassidy was lying exhausted but smiling in a hospital bed, holding our sweet boy. Although this was the eventual end, for someone like me, the cold bloody winter backdrop with the cabin in the wood scene is all intended as the closing chapter, right, Claire? This was meant to happen from the moment we lost you; it was inevitable.

            Forgive, never forget… but there are some things you merely cannot forgive nor forget. “You hurt me because I’ve hurt you, but why this?” Here I am, again, asking a question I knew the answer to or at the very least understood that I wrote it all. The Smith & Wesson MP gunmetal felt heavier than ever; no need to check… “Last one.”

            How many times have I held the polymer of that Smith & Wesson M&P? How many hours at the range, practicing proficiently to protect my family, my home? Never did I imagine it would be used like this. Divorce was never a possibility, only death, a sin for a sin.

            Red. I will suffer hell’s penance for the sin of killing the ones I love. A single 9-millimeter round is a final period as the thought crosses my mind.

            Unforgivable. Unforgivable, it was all so damn “UNFORGIVABLE!” The December winds replied with a sudden swarm of snowflake white bees. White. Us. Red. Red. Them. RED. Black. Unforgivable. A hush, as the morning came, the muzzle of the Smith & Wesson flashed a brilliant white as it echoed with a final


Cozy Christmas Beats 🎄 Lofi Hiphop Mix:

Rating: 1 out of 5.



Welcome to Sex with Luna.  Please be advised that this site contains sexually explicit content for the grown and sexy. Also, I would like to mention that not everything here is sexual but a gateway into my mind as I take you down the rabbit hole of my wonderland. If you are still interested please sit back, relax and scroll on through to begin your journey into an erotic world of the sexual venture.


Issa Snack (Pt. I)

For a while now, we’ve been playing these games with one another. Flirting and sexting, the occasional late-night freak talk of all the things we would do to one another.

All this did for me was manifest an insatiable hunger for you, yes, you. The one that had been the cause of all my erotic fantasies and wettest dreams. I had a craving that couldn’t be filled by ordinary means, and tonight, I wanted to change that. I needed to satisfy this carnal deprivation.


I called you over for a little Netflix, chill, and a home cooked meal that was carefully prepared by yours truly.

The night went smoothly, the sexual tension was overwhelming. We couldn’t keep our hands or lips off one another. It was finally time to turn all our words into reality. Taking you by your soft hand, I guided you up the stairs into the bathroom. I ran the shower until just about every reflective surface were fogged up.


We undressed one another slowly, carefully. As I peeled off each article of clothing, I felt that childish anticipation of Christmas morning. I felt the same excitement of ripping the wrapping off the gifts. We bathed in the sight of each other’s glory. You bit your bottom lip and I damp mines. We moved to the shower and gently cleansed each other in detail, in preparation.

I stood close to you with your back to the shower wall, kissing and licking your neck as the heat of the water rained down on us. My kisses descended lower and lower, making a stop at your fully erect nipples. Taking time with each one in my mouth, teasing them with the soft nibble of my teeth and the swirl of my tongue. Traveling lower, I dropped to my knees, pulling your passion fruit towards my awaiting mouth. You arched your back and moaned when you felt my lips and tongue press on your sweet tasting yoni.  Without hesitation, your legs open wide to the feel of my tongue; you placed one foot on the edge of the tub; opening your universe to me. I inched closer, cradling your hips in my hands so I can dive my face deeper into your tunnel of love.

Part II

Part III

Lunar petal 26 : Déjà vu

I had a dream about you last night,

in a place where time and space could not touch us

I remembered how your smile was so simple and bright,

I’ve tasted those honey suckle lips

deliberately fell deep into the chasm of those eyes

My hands traced the detail of those hips so intimately

I knew you before I even met you,

This must be what they call déjà vu.



I Love her

Soft, white silence suffocates the mountain noise, a moment calm, honest, and seamless. Snow white stained in a deep seething red.

A blanket of ice settled perfectly still around me. My hands crimson with the ink of blood, she was frozen. Not by the icy winter wind but by time. She was forever captured in these last fleeting moments of this tragic stage.

My Heart, my Wife, my Queen, she held a penetrating stare to my gaze as the sticky red fluid pooled into the snow soiling it lush pure beauty.

Standing there fixated on this twisted tragedy was Him. Watching with smugness through those damn beady eyes of black pebble. His face snow pale with a grin made of stones sculpted a crossed its chilly surface. His twig thin arms up in celebration for the condemning of my soul.

He did all of this, from the moment I uncovered his secret and failed to save an innocent, he has played as the author and illustrator of this long drawn out novella of retribution.

Now, this winter stage serves as the climax as the curtains are drawn. As the lights dim a faint whisper could be heard

    I’ll suffer hell’s penance for the sins of killing the one I love.


HeartBeat Melody

Can we dance underneath the stars,
Just you and me
With nothing playing but the rhythm of our heartbeats,
It plays my favorite tune as we groove and stride to that sweetheart melody

Let me hold you in the spotlight of the moon,
Just me and you,
Vibing to the perfect volume that resonates so sweetly with the beautiful wilds of the night as I see the wonder of God design in your eyes,
Damn I love that kind of rushing feelings

I just want to chill and vibe,
You and me,
rocking side to side underneath a star-filled sky
With no why’s rhyme or reason,

I miss dancing like that
You and me
Vibing to the beat of that Heartbeat Melody,
I count the moments when we can rewind it back
But I see you’re already onto the next track

Freedoms Fine Print by Amir

Every day I pray for the next generations minds,

I can’t breathe…

A generation of social influencers

Slaves of a new kind,

I can’t breathe…

Let the media tell it

We are lead to believe we are free,

Freedom of speech
Freedom of religion
Freedom of self

I can’t breathe…

But those born with a flesh like mines that’s just an illusion to make us comply,

I can’t breathe…

They bind our hands and rest their knees on our neck then say we are resisting arrest

I can’t breathe…

Open your eyes for these devils do not rest,

Black Mother’s and Father are laying to rest their young,

I can’t breathe…

Black Son’s and Daughters are losing their Mothers and Fathers

Death from natural causes –
Fear,  Hate, and sickness of the mind

I can’t breathe…

Another Son struck down by those sworn to protect and serve for committing the crime E.W.B (Existing While Black)

I can’t breathe…

Facts watered down and sugar-coated,

I can’t breathe…

You see my independence started on the 19th of June 1865, that’s 89 years after the 4th of July,

History is told by the winners, the losers are silenced because the dead don’t speak,

American History but not my ancestor’s story,

28 days out the year to speak on Black culture

400+ years yes, plus years because it’s still thriving,

I can’t breathe…

We take to the streets and parade for Justice and Peace but the cries of the oppressed fall on deaf ears,

So we burn and riot, your buildings can be replaced but Black lives can not

All lives matter some conditions apply, all men are created equal but lady liberty isn’t blind

I can’t breathe…

Take a knee during the national anthem and you holla it’s unamerican,

Take a knee on the neck of black Americans Mr Policeman we can’t breathe, please please let us up we can’t breathe…

Slip knot around the neck get the camera phones out,

We can’t breathe…
We can’t breathe…
I… Can’t breathe…

The Sweetpea — My Screaming Twenties

Your lessons in abandonment have finally come into use as I forget each day to water the sweetpea hanging from the tree and watch it crisp beneath the sun’s heat, yellowing like teeth. I wonder if you did this too every time you dug your heels in deep and saw her before me, refusing to […]

via The Sweetpea — My Screaming Twenties

Theoretically — writing in north norfolk

We harvested the fruits of muddy shores, watched millions of diamond sparkles on the crests of ocean waves before we turned our eyes to space. It startled us and left us wanting to know more about what lies beyond the darkness, titillated and tempted to explore. Still we must overcome hurdles while our feet are […]

via Theoretically — writing in north norfolk