You.
With motives
dark
a touch so
delicate
your words
inflict bruising with such eloquence.
It’s you.
You who peals
the bells that resonate beneath my skin
whose warm
praise wraps round my heart
opaque
rice paper
thin.
In you.
In you the landscape
of my desire is written
scrawled in
your hand.
Each shift of
weight, each ripple
every breath.
The
shuddering ones and the quiet.
As I retreat,
freefalling head first into fantasy
or lunge
forward, with scant regard into life unbridled
You have been
the anchor.
That which
keeps me moored.
Though tides
and wakes relentless break upon my shores
and swirl
forebodingly around the sun
it’s this
desire for you that crests
forever out
of reach
but always in
my view.
Timeless
and more.
You.
3 comments:
As I sit here with your words now etched upon my skin, I fear my own expression lacking, wanting, my utterance taken clear away by the sheer erotic beauty and depth of your poetry.
And that image – the glimpse of your face and masculine body, her sensuous curves reflected in the mirror, the moment of fusion captured with a seductive and visceral honesty.
Stunning, bhp. Absolutely stunning...
Mirror, mirror on the wall ....
Nice pose, Fair One.
(As a side note, maybe you should consider going as Jesus for Halloween?)
Cheeky Minx.. One of the myriad things you most certainly will never lack, is expression. Infact you are it's supreme master, in my eyes. And your praise the perfect fillip for mine. Now, if I may etch a little deeper..
And Ella.. The Jesus idea I have done once before.. With full beard & thorny crown & blood soaked cloth. Breaking bread with you however, would be far more of a treat..
You two treat me so damn well. Through thick and thin. I thank you.
xox
bhp
Post a Comment