DazedAndConfused
Bluelighter
Just a little something I wrote last night:
*****WARNING: May offend********
Your brush barely tips
the canvas of me and already I’m inspired.
Arching, tumbling we recall the
moments memories of nights before
in a fusion
of downy hair
and nectar-sweet
warmth.
Beneath you I shudder,
touch the delicious curve of
your shoulders – taper to your waist
and am promptly lost
in the slippery heat
of you.
Like diamonds, your eyes sparkle
below me as you reach and milk
the core of me
bursting with shiny coated confetti,
paper stars and euphoria
and the immobile weight
of myself as I am spent and gone.
Do you worry
that during those hours
when my loins ache with wanting for
more of you
and I am drowning
reckless
in your essence,
that I see the image of another
in the shadow play I forge on the
burning insides
of my closed eyelids?
Don’t…..
I love to hate you
love to love you and
revel in succumbing to you,
child-like in
your stupor-inducing hands.
Touch me
colour me like a
paint by number
push into me
hard and fast and
wash me clean with your holy water.
Daily
I run my fingers along myself
searching for the point at which you
end and I begin
and find nothing but the
fuzzy contentedness of muted ecstasy,
sleep, and
dreams of you.
[ 14 February 2002: Message edited by: DazedAndConfused ]
*****WARNING: May offend********
Your brush barely tips
the canvas of me and already I’m inspired.
Arching, tumbling we recall the
moments memories of nights before
in a fusion
of downy hair
and nectar-sweet
warmth.
Beneath you I shudder,
touch the delicious curve of
your shoulders – taper to your waist
and am promptly lost
in the slippery heat
of you.
Like diamonds, your eyes sparkle
below me as you reach and milk
the core of me
bursting with shiny coated confetti,
paper stars and euphoria
and the immobile weight
of myself as I am spent and gone.
Do you worry
that during those hours
when my loins ache with wanting for
more of you
and I am drowning
reckless
in your essence,
that I see the image of another
in the shadow play I forge on the
burning insides
of my closed eyelids?
Don’t…..
I love to hate you
love to love you and
revel in succumbing to you,
child-like in
your stupor-inducing hands.
Touch me
colour me like a
paint by number
push into me
hard and fast and
wash me clean with your holy water.
Daily
I run my fingers along myself
searching for the point at which you
end and I begin
and find nothing but the
fuzzy contentedness of muted ecstasy,
sleep, and
dreams of you.
[ 14 February 2002: Message edited by: DazedAndConfused ]
