|Blogs > rm_skyblu11 > awoman|
Of peace and purple lace. . . Do you hear the wild thing call? A pitiful moan?
She stumbles now, bruising herself on her consciousness. . . in the summer air
Listening for the voice of the great UNKNOWN. . . Beckoning. . .
Cajoling. . . Pleading. A woman, in search of a man. Doing all the wrong things right. And the right things wrong.
Subtle glimpses from across the room. Ah there? A blue eyed devil with the soul of a poet~ heart pacing madly in the cage of her heart. . . Was she being romantic?
She hoped so. Always.
There would be time enough to be wrong. Ebullient light in the center
of a dream frayed with sighs in the moonlight that come undone in strangers voices. . .
A light serenade voluptuous in the deepest
reservoir of joy and rapture within the stillborn night. . .
A fellow refugee who caresses her with the exceeding tenderness that is only possible at the juncture of dreaming when passion and intelligence are woven into one. . .
A naked pure intelligence that cannot be broken or violated. . .
Heartbreakingly beautiful. This perfect stranger. . .She had to right to ask.
Beloved immortal. . . Another lion on the island. . . Something ancient and mystic and wild. . . That lives, beyond the spinning thunder dome.
An enduring fantasy. . . Causing eyes to embark upon a journey, into the sun of a thousand kisses. . . A perilous and sensual journey that is guided by the beacon of desire, blossomed in their hearts. . .
She greeted each Possibility, with passion undone and imagination gone savagely wild. . . Her heart racing to the end of time. . .
Dancing to the farthest star. . . Laughter penetrating the deepest corners and illuminating the highest precipices. . . of Expanding consciousness. .
And traveling the vast cosmos. . . At the velocity of passion.
To somehow materialize on the other side. Whole and undone.
Something in her pauses in reflection between brilliance and madness~
Crystallizing in faith. A sweet knowing that rises up to ones heart as she opened the door, cracking it only a little.
To better observe this handsome stranger in the shimmering soulful eclipse of light. . . ,
Unsure as to letting him in as she is washed,within crystalline bermudian waves. .
Knowing somehow, she never had a choice. Her hunger trembles thru fevered lips and fingertips~ ,evoking visions of complete surrender. .
An otherworldly magnetism rendering her powerless as a babe who longs
for its mothers breast~ An urgency that lived beyond the moment, as
she fell into his ecclesiastic embrace. . . And as hungry wolves that
explore each sensory nuance with eyes and ears and tongue and breath
and skin. . . The scents and tastes, and pleasures of flesh, making
them mad with animal desire. . . In the thin light of the doorway,
allowing herself to be taken by this creature of the night.
To ravenously devour and possess. To surrender completely, and to take with irreverence, to that next moment of stolen delight and adventure.
To be dangerously obsessed.To walk naked in the warm Kubriciak rain like a girl of 12 or 13 again.
To kiss long neath summer waterfalls and feast upon each other for a sensuous picnic in the sun. . .
She opened her arms with invitation and celebration,in the morning sun, and was washed with Ecstasy. Numerous sheaves of passion and sensate tremors tickling her as tho he were there, inside of here now.
His erotic tenderness filled her like warm wind chimes and juju beads in the blissful illuminous nocturnal OZ of her dreams.
An energy belonging to a greater freedome touching her always. . . As one ,incapable of ,experiencing from within. . . Emerging~ ,as one who is a part OF. . .
And now, dreaming inside out, she stood in the doorway to nowhere,
asking her lover to come in. . .
Legs open like silken lips begging.. . come in.
Exotic Martini in hand. Swollen Lips parted and smiling sinuously . . . Deep purple midnight beyond her blending with flowing white silk,
As tho she were a luminous star in radiant repose. . . A summer flower that blossoms beneath the sultry moon,
An enchantress reaching out for her love forlorn, and lover to be~ Hotlips blowing a fated kiss unto the great listening ears of the
universe. A flower. . . A poem. . . A picture. . . A promise. . . A soft wet dream. .
A precious present to be opened by one who dares to ask for more. . . to be lost in the silken
tropical flower of woman.
9/6/2006 1:33 pm
A great writer...love the verse|
7/19/2009 4:37 pm
very sensual and intriguing....love to chat sometime|