Smoken Sex

Lost text.

Forgotten thoughts.

A telepathic mess.

Screenwriting you my hearts desire starting between my legs.

Fantasy currents mixing up my emotions and confusing my inner voice.

Watching love displayed as sex on the TV.

Drawing in my last puff of thoughts of you as I do.

Sensuality at it’s height of my affection my head in the direction of reaching the point of mind blowing mental tantra water flows.

Sweat soaked sheets and a window seat view of not knowing what’s next.

I rest my thoughts on the chest of where I want to be.

C L Cunningham

📷artist Kelsey Smith

Art Army


I don’t like drama.

I’m dramatic enough for the world that I need to occupy my time with anything but that. 

I want to write. Everyday I think about the things I could write about. Usually open and available for new concepts I would just give my honest opinion and leave the rest to discussion . Giving the world keys to fill me up with understanding of all points of view.

The lines of the free to be is getting blinded by headlines. 

But is it wrong to worry about who has our best interest at heart?

I decide to be a hermit at times. To close myself off from anything that doesn’t fuel my chakras and burns up my  physical energy.

Be cautious of too much drama. It’s okay to zone out and relax. To release the pressure put on you by you. And to let go of pressure put on you by others. And please don’t forget that it’s cozy blanket and hot cocoa weather. Flannel pjs and snuggling with a good book or a great love. ♥️💜

C.L Cunningham 

Enjoy your night and may your witching hour be beautiful 🌙🌻



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