NSFW – Adults Only Please – My goal with this page constantly evolves – there was a time when all I wanted was to pique a woman's interest in the hope we connect through writing, dialogue … today, with all of the wonderful inspiration I've received, my need is to further my respect and intrigue in the sensual nature of 'woman' in all of her grace and elegance. I do hope you might enjoy!

Posts tagged “now

A Wake of Silence


While music playing

set a tone

I listen

the outside places

away from me

the nearby

I wonder about sounds

I worry about certain movements?

I question my own decisions

I need to live with that silence.

 

It is in the early mist of mourning

Still hopeful I wait for a chuckle

though it’s a bit far away

I wonder about their morning

I would begin

how has it begun

is she in the same place

has she moved

further away

I worry about my reach

falling short

with every

new day.

 

I love her I know

there’s no question

in my mind the time

enduring.

In waking the normalcy

of loss

the optimism

I’m encouraged only by memory

wishing my reality

to offer some peace

to let her know

she has touched

my soul.

 

For there is now an immediate love

always means to overshadow the pain.


An Unbearable Life


What I became of,

said the seer,

one day while noticing

sad faces.

The eyes of reality

when the salt no longer

pours upon

the unbearable lightness of pain.

I once stood on the threshold of elegance,

I carried the weight of desire,

measured the happiness with words.

 

I once held her in my arms with no

timetable surrounding our passion.

 

Life began to suggest otherwise,

and I cried,

as I will, do, want to, will certainly

have to,

today.

Because it isn’t what I want that matters

to my aching soul,

it is the finality of trying

desperately,

to wade through indifference,

even without ever knowing,

why it makes life

the rollercoaster upon our emotions,

it must be,

when in our world,

the circumstances speak only outcomes.

 

I once held her in my arms with no

timetable surrounding our passion.

 

Oh, to know this sparkling autumn day,

would fill my energy with love,

oh to have that tear

in my hand

to shelter her sobs,

for they measure my own,

for there is love,

for ever.


The Surety of My Hypocrisy


Yes I do glance

I look, I imagine,

I create in my mind a world,

set apart from anyone nearby,

because it is mine,

and only then,

can my freedom be defined.

 

She is of a certain memory,

a night sky filled with sweet energy,

the stars are reminders,

seek the constellations,

I have been in this place

once before,

I know I have because she

does cradle my anxiety in a

spectacular wave of

cool mountain breeze.

 

We all have

one time or another,

imagined that lovely vision,

the trigger of our soul,

to suddenly ask a heartache,

to recall just that one time,

that moment,

when all eyes were elsewhere,

except ours for only a thought

might allow our hearts

an open reckoning

of the beauty inside,

that place so often forgotten,

when desire creates

a need for elegance

to step aside.


Hope Remains


Look outside the sunlight shadows the morning mood,

there’s a partial overcast sky,

suggests an incomplete meaning,

there would seem to be a distant pain

exists in her heart.

 

He would try to simply hold on to measure,

the beating pulse of angst she wish

would a challenge meet his own heart,

a yearning,

a desire beyond the normalcy

of knowing love could be trusted

always

without necessary definition.

 

We do imagine what our heart believes,

that if in a sudden turn,

her eyes might be in his again,

he would take her tears and meet them with his own,

if only,

in this moment the door would be open,

if the sudden luxury of peace,

could then step inside the vacancy

left bruised in

 

my soul.


When Lives Live Separate Realities


We didn’t plan this,

words familiar to the ideal,

two lives in separate worlds,

a correspondence, a fire,

a reasonable time to remember,

is all we suddenly recall,

when tonight, we wander,

separate minds in a similar spell.

 

Fantasy alone brings wild results,

a yearn for reality

make allowance for time,

a touch, a soft gentle caress,

a swift imagination would become,

that certain urgency to know,

to feel eyes upon eyes,

lips to taste the nectar

a careful abandon,

is love.

 

When last I held you close,

we did a passionate dance,

your breath heavy, gasps apparent,

did we play the night for the longer minutes,

when both our bodies felt the need,

to find more time.

We would with just a trace,

skin alive in a sudden fury,

could we travel the miles

in caution a moan, might my desire

ever seek taste in the serene atmosphere,

of only your sweet sensuality.

 

We can each time reinvent

finding center

finding together,

in the privacy of our trepidation,

open doors to wander,

inside the lives

where in a delicious motion,

our bodies, our needs, do meet,

do reach levels.


A Quiet Rain Has Impact


When I opened my eyes,

she was there,

I felt the soft pattern of silence

in the misty morning blues,

I held her close to me,

because I had so recently been reminded,

by the sweet pattern of femininity …

did her shoulders speak to me again,

her eyes with such lightning beauty,

the scent of her as I nuzzled near,

only for a moment,

wondering if I could hold her more.

 

If I might always convince you,

just how much your world

is in my soul, my dreams, my waking desire,

whenever I have the chance to imagine being

just next to you,

I will

forever believe in the mystique,

sweet energy,

it is the nectar of my fantasy,

to know you are my reality.


I Just Want To …


If I might,

rather than let you walk away,

would you let me,

could I just feel drawn by a breeze,

your persona, as winds increase,

that energy eyes me,

yet, walks away before I can,

touch … I only wish to

feel the splendor of your elegance.

Could a person feel the type of pain,

my heart does when you do finally,

walk away.

I will purposely not look at you,

won’t give you the time of day,

part of the act,

the facade I protect myself with.

I don’t want you,

there’s nothing you might do to attract,

to stimulate my senses.

White shorts tight, and your draping blouse,

breasts that heave when you breathe,

naturally an essence of pure sex,

an imaginative stroll against a soft wall,

with me behind, guiding my need inside of you,

passion, pleasure, the pulse of your wanton expression …

Well, there is that.