Gypsea salt

Gypsea Salt is a proudly sexual being. She shares steamy poetry, musings on divine sensuality, and strongly sex positive views. Leave your slut shaming at the door, here.

Photo © Moriah Haven

Photo © Moriah Haven

Gypsea's musings

“Old Heart, New Heart” 

Vile words spoken 

from the deepest crevice within 

the darkest cave corner, 

but a blind amphibian, 

groping at the blackness, 

flailing for the first thing it could happen 

upon to slash with claws of fear and doubt: 


This was the old heart: 

Void of Godly love, 

or any purity, grace, or compassion: 

a demon of pungent vapor, 

a wisp in the corner; 

quietly poised at the first chance 

to devour and destroy anything beautiful or holy.... 


Fearlessly meek, 

Tirelessly gentle, 

Forever faithful 

In heart, in practice, 

A divine grace, 

The Antelope could not catch you, 

leaping over the tallest grass, 

Unafraid, free, while you believe 

with your whole being, 

that when you fall back, 

arms out, smiling in free bliss, 

knowing that you will land 

in the most divine arms of Godly love, 

where he keeps us free, forevermore. 


This is the New Heart: 

Void of vile intention, 

filled with the fearless love of grace, 

an Angel of compassion and gratitude, 

a Redwood pillar, 

Roots thriving in the Earth of God's creation, 

Ready to walk with hands clasped 

in each side of the Saviour, 

Feet burning a brand new road, 

paved in God's fire, cleansing to ashes.... 

ashes to ashes, and dust to dust, 

new heart burning with devotion, and humbled by God: 

The latter heart, I now give to you, my dearest friend.


Copyright 2015 Gypsea Salt

“Forgiveness: The Blue Heron Heart Flight”  

After light was shed 

upon your hurt: 


A little scared boy, 

beaten and bruised, 

abandoned at the 

next foster home, 

and the next, 

and the next... 


your innocence 

stolen, too. 

You didn't know better. 


I forgave you, 

for touching me 

when I was seven, 

and my heart soared: 


it took up 

a beautiful Great Blue Heron flight, 

wings that seemingly struggle, 

to lift the weight of you, 

but, miraculously, 

you rise up, and soar, 

so gracefully, 

after the awkward takeoff, 

now, you see, 

you can fly, 








Copyright 2015 Gypsea Salt

"Revere Her Beauty" 

Every shape, 
Every size, 
Every woman 
Is magical wonder: 
Revere her beauty, 
She is perfect: 
A miracle, 
Made of sensuality 
At its essence. 

Every shape, 
Every size, 
Every woman 
Who walks without apology, 
Who owns her own skin, 
Proudly embracing all of its flaws, 
Simultaneously celebrating its glory.

She IS divine: 
Revere her beauty.

- Gypsea Salt, May 30th, 2017


“A Perfect Covering” 

Cut from the same cloth,
we build this quilt:
piece by piece…..
we take it slow,
stitching together
a perfect covering
for us to shelter within, together,
to weather all of life’s seasons.

-Gypsea Salt, 2016


“Ambrosia Nectar” 

Savor my Ambrosia nectar 

inside your gorgeous lips, 

drink me in, as the holy living water 

that sustains the thirsting of your soul; 

with parting lips exclaiming ecstasy, 

electrical fingers claiming my hips, 

take me in, lover: 

inside of your golden heart, 

your heart chamber, 

your rib cage, 

your abdomen aflame, 

I will taste your ambrosia nectar 

inside of my gorgeous lips: 

I’ll drink you in lover, 

Holy, loving water, 

heart Ambrosia: 

to nourish my soul’s very essence: 

THIS is freedom. 

-Gypsea Salt, 2016

“Momentary Flame” 

I have searched for
the fire fantasy
of a heart set ablaze,
for that singular moment of bliss
when we kissed,
you touched my skin,
I’ve searched for it, my entire life…
it was discovered, though, now, unattainable….
For even the momentary flame,
I am grateful.
If it is the only time
I will feel it,
I could sustain
in my loneliness,
even with just the memory
of your delicious flame,
I will find a small, dark pleasure to know, dear,
that when you touch her,
it will be my lips
you are longing for.

-Gypsea Salt, 2016



Indeed, Mister…
Desire comes first, through anticipation….
Delicious: the memory of your fingertips,
Decadent: are the expanses of my imagination:
Indulging in the knowledge that your touch, would exceed
the salacious boundaries of my expectation
to reclaim my sensuality by accepting,
and indulging in touch without fear.
Touch my skin,
where my heart will heal through it.
Touch my heart,
where my skin would accept you.

-Gypsea Salt, 2016