LA Lorena - 2
Blush
my fingers itch to impart
inky lines upon pale pages for your pleasure A wanton need fulfilled when wrapped metaphors shroud me in mystery and veiled intentions wear clever disguises cloaked in lace imagery I prettily beg to be peeled back layer by layer to expose that hidden and secret inner core I blush I need you only you can undress me gently pry apart my lines tenderly palpate stanzas and oh so lovingly coax my intentions to the surface There
I'll not let on
I carry on composed. stoic my surface granite encrusted memories live, breathe, feel eyes dead hollow long since drowned in depths of earthy brown I walk a different ocean's shores yet those breezes ever carry the co-mingled and lingering scent of love Chanel Senuelle Allure and heady musk odor settles like cumulus permeating every pore infused with every ragged breath Inhale. I take you in. you enter and seek solace in my depths Air electric. atoms charged every nerve and fibre at attention you fill me I see you everywhere strain for that touch No matter the time, space, or distance between drawn and written lines and words of past and present I ache, yearn, hunger close my eyes to truth. Exhale I still feel you... There |
Bain de Soleil
I offer myself unto your altar
barely dressed moist scented and oiled in repose throat exposed back arched lick the swells of my ample breasts gently kiss my sensitive inner thighs I feel your heat as you find mine I am yours and I am prepared to worship you I bask in your glow take me now paint me all over with a golden hue Can You Keep a Secret?
every year, every blessed year
since he walked into my life at the age of 19 when I really didn't need or want, a father figure to replace the one who died (or so I thought) he gave me chocolates Ferrero Rocher to be precise proudly selected and wrapped by him and placed in my Christmas stocking every year, without fail countless thousands of milk chocolate and hazlenut enrobed candies later (and many years after his death) I still receive a box or two from well meaning souls who carry on this tradition in his absence Until the day I die, I will never let on... I hate those damn things and always have Just never had the heart to break his heart I will choke them down with the tears over sweet chocolate made bittersweet with good intentions 
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