|
| And then it hit me. In one twisted and dangerous move I glittered and dazzled my way across to his room. I saw it. Alone. Stranded. Wanting a lover. Oh my did I want it too. Slowly but surely my heart began to race. I could hardly escape my excitement! I could feel every ounce of me feverishly rush in anticipation. For at least the next few moments, you will be mine. My fingers will etch across your unsuspecting and tumultuous plains and we'll find new plateaus of love. Let me surrender... I can't wait to make love to you in the darkness, your ones... my zeros. | | |
| Motionless, I stare. As if my eyes framed slowly I glared out the eerily familiar scenery through paned icey windows. All I could feel was the jagged edges. All I could see was the moment... Puzzled and distraught, I grasped for a distraction... the little globe beckoned for my attention. So content in the confusion and glimmer.
I just wanted to rewind... my mind, flummoxed and cluttered... simply another flaccid and blank caricature.
I throw out the film. | | |
| What meaning do I give the love between my legs. I fail to deprive my guilty pleasures. There is an evil temptress lurking between my loins... a flamboyant and alluring succubus which toys with my body casting my self control and self respect aside... she beckons me and I find myself far too eager to undrape and heed to her wishes. I am afraid she is only becoming progressively stronger with the turning of the night, or am I, her victim and most avid customer, in her illusion of love becoming more weak? I miss her already. I don't know if she knows my name. | | |
| There was a day when we froliched out with the shining yellow daisies and told stories that were even brighter. I remember when we did sommersaults and our worlds were in unison. We had such sweet breezes then, catching musky trails and essences. I could collapse from overexposure or be soaring higher than the treetops with glee, it never mattered. If only I had listened a little more, lived a little less, she pleaded softly... why must we have seasons. | | |
| how I dream of the kiss
which hazes me with its sweet poisons
my heart excites.
it does not stop.
with you I glisten at the lips
your sweet traces spoiling my innocence. | | |
|
|
