In the Garden of Light and Shadow

The snow and the cold do not feel the same way.
🫂
I’ll bet that Carhartt sales would jump if they used this for their advertising. You may have discovered a new niche fetish they could benefit from. ;)
Bahaha.. there is probably some niche fetish site out there for such a thing...
I think everyone is. My reason seeing this gif is if it were warmer that bra would be off. LOL
Nah, the bra makes it a touch feminine. Otherwise, meh...
Absolutely gorgeous.
Thanks, Garfield. 😘
Love this and yes tired of it all, one block from the beach and we got 15" and single digits.
🫂
Seconded.
😁
You make the cold look sexy
Not once everything is zipped up! I just look like a brown blob.
Nicely wrapped and being peeled open to find the juicy fruit inside.
Alas, my melons are not what they once were.
I agree. Thanks for the warm up!
Always welcome for a snuggle, Birdie. 😘
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton

Thanks for the words and image, JaF.
We can always count on you for poetry in (e)motion, and celebration in stillness.
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
You’ve got good taste in poetry.
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
Wow what a great read first thing in the morning. Have a great day. ❤️🫂
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
You sure know how to turn the heat up 🥵😘
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
Your naked body makes even the prose pale in comparison.😻😻😻
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
The Love at the Heart of the Universe that I call God extends grace to all when they are ready to accept it.
 
I remain transfixed by the throaty purr of your voice long after the sound retreated…the words were of course erotic but you breathed them into vigorous, growling life. You’re quite something.
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
sexiest body and pics on here!!!
 
Great shots and an awesome poem. I liked the overalls gif. It made me smile. I grew up in rural America - where you never knew what someone looked like until you peeled three or four layers of clothes off! :)
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
Looks like you are in the best place, snow and freezing temperatures outside your window.
 
if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
I love the verse and the gorgeous photo :love:
 
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