Hi, I'm Kyle - a writer of queerotica, a transbear and kinky switch. Thanks for stopping by.Have questions? Email me at Kyle at Butchtastic.net.
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Category Archives: poetry
How to Make Love to a Trans Person Forget the images you’ve learned to attach To words like cock and clit, Chest and breasts. Break those words open Like a paramedic cracking ribs To pump blood through a failing heart. … Continue reading
It’s always a challenge to become ourselves easier maybe with role models someone to watch observe mimic until we find our own meaning our own stride Â harder without no footsteps to follow no blueprints to crib from how do … Continue reading
Ang, the Sweltering Celt, has given us our weekly Microfantasy Monday prompt, The Edge, and this is what I was inspired to write.. enjoy — There’s something fascinating about the edges of things. Â The margin where forest meets meadow, that … Continue reading
this started out as a sort of poem written in a moment when I was missing Roxy and imagining being with her. Â When she read it, she had what she called a ‘poetic dialog’ with this piece, included below in … Continue reading
I enjoy some simple pleasures a quiet morning with coffee and the newspaper putting on a soft t-shirt listening to Jack Johnson’s warm beat while working in the cold working up a sweat the satisfaction of a job well done … Continue reading
goddamn, I love your legs their strength, carrying you through your day their shape, turning me on at a glance the feel, silky softness under my fingertips the seduction, your leg rubbing against mine the invitation, your legs opening for … Continue reading
we were swimming in clear warm waters playing, laughing innocent clarity in our love we explored colorful reefs and sandy bottoms excited, joyful there seemed no limit to what we could do . we came into a place of strong … Continue reading
on my wrist, this simple loop a symbol, a bond, a promise aÂ gift to her, freely given my love, my power, my warrior’s heart defiance in my eyes sparks flames in hers this power, this heat, mine, hers, ours she … Continue reading
I stand, jangling, disparate parts sometimes smoothly fitting and harmonious, sometimes a discordant mass of confused motives and traitorous impulses. She sees me struggle to live up to my ideals, not give in to my selfish, petty wants and she … Continue reading