what a wicked wicked want
the wicked thoughts come flooding in from just a word from seeing you a tilted glance a sideways smile a heart in flames my skin on fire the wishes strong that you would blush the image bold desire so hot what i have done within my dreams i have not shared nor should i tell of need that aches and lust that swells
the ache for the kiss, for the touch, in the night
have you cried for the loss of a love never known have you ached for the touch of a hand have you sighed for the warmth of a kiss yet unkissed have you wanted to be taken away so the sun will sink low and the darkness arrive the echoes of day will dispell and the wishes will start with an ache in your heart and the heat in your hips will be felt
living in the shadow of memory
so long it has been so long since the touch of lips parting warm against my own since the touch of fingers moving upon my skin so long it has been so long since i felt the heat in a lover’s hips since i tasted lust on a lover’s lips so long it has been so long
un peu mot
if I was blinded by mere mote so it mote be that I cannot see beyond the smallest part taken to the place within the smallest space of thought that will not fly mai seulement un petit mot dis moi pour chacun nuit j’espere, desir, souhaite un peu d’amour c’est tout
icarus once saw the heights but hubris was his...
fallen abased descended denigrated fallen from grace abased through space descended disgraced i have fallen fallen from wishes base and low desires you don’t know fallen
dying light before the sunrise
looking back through the rearview to you home flickering red in the hesitant brake lights the tailights setting fire to places left behind the black snow floated down filling the air the bitter taste of burned hope the faint strain of strings idly bowed the song of a heart gone to ash i wanted hope and heart to sing but in the dying light of last embers you gave your kiss to him and yet beneath...
the secret way you have when no one else can see
show me with a wanton look your heated touch as if all alone with the heat of lust strip away your care strip away all thought with a wanton touch with a heated look show me let my eyes devour what you hide beneath let me in to see what you hide away
your legs are crossed and still I think about the...
the curve of your calf move often it is the smooth warmth the silken softness of thigh against parting lips in a kiss that warm nuzzle silken smooth that comes to mind but now at this moment it is the curve of your calf i want to feel against my kiss my fingers holding the arch of your soul feeling your skin my questing lips seeking just that pulse point where i can find your heat and trace the...
the arcane meaning of a dream
what does it mean that the light in your eyes wakes me in a dark night and leaves me wondering what does it mean that your words come out of the blue with little herald or warning and my heart races to see you reach for me what does it mean that I dream the warm taste of your kiss of wanting more of you than this plotting collisions in the street wondering if we will ever meet
where dreams may abide
and dreams are not the province alone of the sleeping mind for i will find myself bestirred at times by the roused from dreaming rumination of my fingers that have been transported from their earthly norm to search out and caress soft places warm becoming heated at their touch at times my lips will start awake from dreaming of your kiss and that moment of tightening round soft places that will...
I cannot stop what I will not
sheltersky: i want to stop thinking about you. I want to stop creating images and scenes of you, of us, of my hands on you, of your hands on me. Even though I cannot unbutton your shirt, slowly as my eyes are fixed on yours, the warmth of your skin revealed little by little until I pull the cloth from your shoulders and press my lips to your neck, I cannot stop thinking about how you would...
what lips and fingers want is just a start
the taste of you in a kiss with that kiss that shivers you so the feel of you against finger tips the movement of hips that curls up toes the taste of you warm and sweet on my tongue heady scent on my skin dizzying desire swelling within
on waking from my dreams
some dreams are felt within a heavy fog the dank moments unfolding inexorably timed and waking from the fog held dream the tendrils waft still with the morn some dreams are suffered locked in chains the weight of fear and pain so cold and waking from that prison place the shackle marks are slow to fade some dreams are warmed in summer’s grace the honeyed sun on beauty’s face your hand...
when waiting for you with bated breath
tell me a story that lifts your hem that shows me your hunger that opens your heart tell me a story of unbridled desire when you were unleashed your hips set on fire tell me a story of loss never gained of needs unfulfilled of being restrained tell me a story a kiss and a smile that look in your eyes that keeps me beguiled
stepping out of the dream
i dreamed of dark carpathian crags your hair streamed in the wind as did the white lace of your hem as did your slender arms you stood looking into leaden sky horizon beyond your view and when the rain came despair’s deluge no drop did stain your lace until the tears fell hard and fast streaming from your face i dreamed of sunlit hardwood an impossibly empty room the honey gold glow suffused...
leaving a memory impressed deep within
i want to touch you so you know you have been touched so the memory of the moment is the yardstick against which the future is understood i want to slide deep inside the heat of you taking hold of you moving you to the beat of my desire i want to touch you and take you leaving you with the heat of a moment that does not fade readily in the night
dancing words and dreams
are you the dancer in my dreams who twirls in circles face unseen the movement of your hips and legs that captures me and makes me beg are you the author of my night who writes a story taking flight the movement of your words and mind steals my breath and thoughts unwind are you the poet of my desire whose lines unfold set me afire or are you a ghost whose whispers tease who dances near before you...
it was the touch of your lips that i wanted that i want that i need that light in your eyes the way your lips bend to smile the touch of your hand that i dream of that i dream that i need the tilt of your head the quizzical look that i have never seen it is the touch of you lips and hips hands and legs that i want that i dream but how can a ghost ever kiss me
close my eyes and dream again
i close my eyes to dream the warmth of your lips against mine to feel the silken heat of your skin against mine i close my eyes to dream the twining of your fingers with mine to feel the tightening of your legs around mine i close my eyes i close my eyes i part with a sigh and i close my eyes
call out in need, call out in want
don’t run from the want and the hunger that heats you skin that leaves you stirring in the night just call in your want and the hunger call out for the touch for the kiss of hips that becomes more than just a kiss
beyond the reach of arms
i saw your eyes as hollow from a heart grown cold with pain i saw your words as anguish from desire that still remains i know you wish for respite from the loss that never fades i wish my arms could soothe you from the thoughts that still abrade
dark desire that hides love
in the darkness of the night beneath the plush black velvet sky the world flung open wide and cavernous the echo of my heart throbbing hot within my veins pulsing low beneath the stars calling you oh i should call your name whispered syllables so sweet or i could call your bluff hands quite ready to take charge but i just feel desire sailing hot along my veins the desire riding high with you far...
the wish, the thought, the desire
the image of you curves under cloth smile to light the night movement that steals my sight and i want you fingers aching to trace the curves lips aching to taste the smile hips aching to move in you the words you write fingers tapping lines that sing empty spaces draw me in and i want you fingers reaching to trace the words lips moving to whisper new lines hips shifting beneath your signs
the touch that fades, was it ever mine
your kiss that i will never have again your lips i cannot taste now your eyes that i cannot ensnare again your eyes elude me your heart that i cannot entrap again your heart escapes me your hand your hand that i would hold has slipped away i’ve lost you
your fire that lights the dark
i woke while dark was still upon me the hungry dark wherein i call your name i woke in darkness the heat of need upon me though my hands have never held you they called your name i woke beneath the dark drowning in the night my lips gasping for your kiss though i have never kissed you to breathe you in my breath of life to taste your need my drink of night i woke before the sun within the dark of...
if, and only if
you didn’t want what i could offer you didn’t need what i would give and though you met me in the darkness and you offered me your lips you wouldn’t take my hand as comfort you couldn’t take my arms in warmth but the heat we shared was blistering the desire we shared a torch though you are gone now for these years past though you would never stay with me i still wonder if...
when want becomes the ache to be wanted
the hollow echo of empty space space that should be filled with you oh that ache so deep within my bones that ache for your fingers to press against to circle round to take hold of me oh that ache that throbs so deep for your lips to press their case oh that ache that comes again for you to want me for you to want me
scorched heart, unrequited want
parched, cracked the dust flies driven by hot wind beneath the callous sun time without you simply ticks grains of sand idly shift tears of desire dry before they fall the need for you so hot heart slows in your thrall you are just a wish a ghost of words and want desire burning without end scorched earth all thats left
reaching beyond reach to touch you
can words reach across space to take hold of your fingers and move them bent to my purpose can words reach through time to slide under your skin and heat you taken by my message as i would take you were you just a hand span away
when first we meet for just a drink
sheltersky: Meet me for a drink, you said, and I agreed, and there we were. A first time face to face, and I wondered what would happen given all that had passed between us. You told me you had been shopping for something special, and the corner of your mouth turned up. I saw something in your eyes when I felt your knee brush against mine. I placed my hand on your knee and felt the warmth of...
within, without, and wanting you
i close my eyes to feel my syn the touch of lips upon your skyn the swell of need to be withyn to take control to build your heat i close my eyes to feel you near
where thoughts will go
i thought about you today this was not about holding hands not about sunsets or running together through wet paris streets i thought about you today with a hard insistent throb calling for release i thought about the way you would move against me how you would respond as my lips tightened on you I thought about you today and wondered if your thoughts had moved in the direction of mine
just a touch at long distance
you nudged me just a note from so far away if a note could carry a kiss you sent me lust in an image when i saw your hunger my heart racing my finger tracing lines and contours as if to conjure right into my arms to write you into my bed to take you from the image of your desire and make us the picture of our lust your bare skin beneath my lips the movement of your hips the wave that i can take...
the touch of skin to skin
i want to touch you just a kiss lips pressed where it can’t miss a finger tip drawn warmly on your hip an arm around you pulling you quite close to feel you with me as we fall asleep
grasping or reaching, in a moment of need
don’t look for me to save you in the fall from grace each night my hands would reach to catch you but my timing won’t be right don’t wait for me to call you when you shiver on the edge my voice might seem so soothing but i won’t go near the ledge if you will whisper softly when you feel you are alone then i could come a’calling then i could bring you home and if you...
taken by lilith, ghost in the night
she comes in the night to take hold of my dreams with her lips weaving a song that throbs in my veins that empties my lungs she comes without call no warning or sign to take hold of my needs and blinker my eyes no potion or power nor ritual or ward can keep her at bay or hold us apart she comes out of dreams my lilith of night by day she is gone like a ghost out of sigh
to eat of your pain
if i could eat your pain and take it to my heart so you could see your light so you would not fall apart if i could ease your hurt give you comfort warm to restore your light to restore your calm i would pay the price i would take the risk just to see you smile just to give you peace
words, just words
there are words that you can feel silken soft brushing over skin blushing warmth spreading under summer sun the red hot slap smack of hand against tender skin there are words that you can hear even without a voice the tick tick tick of the faucet in the night scatter shot clatter of rain blown hard against the window a hollow cry of loss in the winter dark some words mean little in some mouths...
chiaroscuro, shape and substance
chiaroscuro it is the edges you know that define the form that give the image its heat contrast between soft and hard gentle and rough caring and… what is the contrast that draws the line caring without qualification support without supposition form and substance does not need to ride on the knife’s edge
a song unsung, held waiting on the lips
is this a lasting treasure or just a moment’s pleasure tonight so tell me now and I won’t ask again will you stil love me tomorrow
time, one tick, one tock
I never jump to the end of a book nor do I fastforward through the pages of a story I taste each word as written take a sentence at a time look for the sunrise before judging the day the world spins from sunrise to sunset and i travel with it the turn of the day bringing much that is new if one waits with patience for the meaning to unfold itself
finding the lost
held in my hand my fingers circling your wrists stretching our arms above your head the kiss stretching on as we search each other for the key and with one free hand i search the contours searching your ins and outs for the places you have lost just waiting me to find them and find you within
love in the garden of ghosts
there were seams in her stockings there were heels on her shoes there was motion in her walk to dispel the darkest blues there was heat in her eyes if you found them where they hid there was purpose in her step it was clear she was no kid when i met her she was distant she was from another place when i met her i was smitten by her style, by her grace i had thoughts i should not mention i had...
cafe cortado off gran via
i think of you in a hat wide brim shading your eyes from view buttoned up blouse hiding the lace beneath i think of you with a book worn cover softened by the motion of your fingers print softened by the hunger in your eyes your legs crossed in stockings curved by calf the hem of your skirt just below your knee i think of you a cortado cooling by your finger tips as you wait underneath the lace...
i find myself looking for you any image displaying a place i could press my lips i know there are no images of the kind that i dream of late at night lying restless and hungry in the dark my fingers grasping at desire with the thought of your heat on my skin i find myself looking for you bare, ready, wanting to be taken even if I cannot cross the distance with just words my desire knows no bounds
waking does not dispell the dream
did you dream me as i did you did you dream our kiss for i felt it true did you wake in need desire enflameddid you stare in the dark and whisper a name did the light not dispell the hunger inside do the images still cause need to arise
the power to take hold, the power to take
take me out of here with a word with a whisper warm breath swirl starting a hurricane in my veins take me out of myself with an image only you can paint with your finger tips tracing runes of power on my heart take me as you can as you will in your hands into your heat into your hips with your lips
cheshire words fading with the fog
I can close my eyes and feel your words against my lips as if you whisper while we kiss but your words i have only traced with my finger tips and now when i touch my finger to your words they are not mine when night falls dark without a moon i think of you pale fire on dark sea a light i cannot grasp a sight no longer seen you slip in and out a ghost of night i cannot hold you nor can i touch you...
forty days and forty nights are nothing compared...
i have wandered the desert of shifting sands the mirage of love shimmering against the unrelenting heat of desire there is no stable ground in this vast wasteland each footfall grows heavier as the time passes since i have tasted the sweet kiss of parted lips sharing the pulse of want since i have felt the circling touch of fingers seeking to ignite the throb of need my lips are cracked with time...
breaking bonds and losing heart
Waking in the morning in a cell of your own construction, it is not the walls that confine so much as the paths that can be taken. The world is clear and laid out as before, but the will restrains from doing that which one would, in another time. Would that I could. But there comes a time when need chooses to struggle with will, wrestling as if manifest angels of good and better, or right and...