Here I am,
Freer than I can remember being
In a long while,
All these fresh, glistening feelings
Settle in upon me:
Emotions, sensations,
needs, desires;
Things I’ve pushed away
For so long,
Too long
Aspects of being,
Delights of life that I have denied myself
Become now apparent glittering possibilities,
Present reminders
of my sensitive, seductive self;
Pieces I shuttered for safe keeping
For too long,
But never gone
Only held;
Rising, here and now
Transformed
Into a new manifestation;
a Goddess,
Refined with time and pressure
Ready too for her due from life,
In more than the hefty weight of the world,
But in the ripe exquisite beauty and pleasure of its bearings,
Forged and fiery,
with light of the sun she gleams,
A diamond emerged from the rough.
Tag: sensual
Insomnia
How
We made love,
I can’t get out the thought,
The feeling out of my core,
I am drugged by the memory,
Of your body so deep,
Our breaths hushed whispers,
In each other’s ears,
I close my eyes alone,
And still cannot sleep,
My want of you
From afar,
Makes for a maddening insomnia,
Alas,
I have the intimate recollection,
Of your fingers on my skin,
And sleep becomes irrelevant,
For the dream
I’m already in
This Wanting You
You are illicit,
And that only elicits more feelings from me,
I shouldn’t want so much,
But I do, and I stay here awake fantasizing about
You,
You who are always out touch,
But the memory of your touch never wanes,
The wanton heat alone of need makes this almost pain,
But I wouldn’t stop it if I could,
I love you
I want,
I won’t,
And oh!
This wanting you,
Feels so god damn good
Not Just a Memory
You are beautiful.
I see you in my mind when I can’t touch you,
I ache at the thought of your hands,
Your shoulders,
I am lost in thoughts when I shouldn’t be,
The curve,
The swell of your behind,
I am lost,
The wetness of your mouth,
I am breathless,
The thick firmness of your thighs,
I am captivated by an image I can’t touch,
Wanting so much to feel, taste, kiss the things I see,
But alas,
Were it not just a memory.
She of Letters 