He owed them nothing, but he indulged them to see if there was any understanding among them. They ridiculed his many afflictions as fiction. They reviled him for telling the absolute truth about the state of his condition. He explained to them thoroughly his misery. Again and again, he reiterated the agony of his story. He realized that they were cowardly when they mockingly replied, “Yeah, me too,” but then they fell silent in fearful trembling when he said poignantly, “the things that I have been through would have already killed you.”
Category: Poetry
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Don’t yet reveal the fullness of your passionate depths to me. Let me dream about what is to be. Allow me to savor the distinguished taste of your mystery. Let me please you deeply, and in your breathing and moaning decipher what your heart is saying. Let me immerse myself in your library and piece together the chapters of your ecstasy. Blindfold me, and lead me to the oasis of your sensuality. Subtly, drench me in the rain of your femininity. Allow me to experience you in ethereal realms of intimacy. With the scent of your essence, mark me as your one and only. Draw me to you eternally.
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He embraced her with a loving heart and shared in the tears of the trauma of her formative years. In that moment, silence was truly golden. No words needed to be spoken. It was the beginning of the process of mending all that was broken. Glowing kisses flowed on rivers of understanding. Angelic choirs gathered and sang the songs of new compositions. The one who eternally loves her, wept, and in his silent prayer he said, “O, Lord of heaven, see us now, and bestow upon us your healing.” After the long silence was broken, she said, ” I love you” as she affectionately gazed upon him.
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I dreamt in-depth of her depths, her breasts, the sweet and sensuous words of her breath, the intimacy of me and the response of her flesh, my love embracing her in exquisite caress, kissing her passionately with tears of joy as she dreamed in midnight rest. It was in black silk that she was dressed, covering skin so soft that she felt like ethereal satin that was everlasting. I was overwhelmed with unbridled passion, uttering words of love that flowed from me transcendentally. In that moment, she became my wife and my life. I awoke at half past midnight.
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Tender kisses, slow descent;
eyes overflow in joyous midnight.
Feminine glow is exquisitely
displayed through open window
under entrancing moonlight.
Glistening skin is so beautifully
contrasted against satin white.
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The sweetness of her was like blackberry brandy mixed with lemonade, freshly crushed blackberries, simple syrup infused with rosemary, and whiskey in the summer poured over ice boulders. The process of intoxication were her lascivious whispers right before every passionate release, over and over. There was always pleasure in pleasing her, but the epitome of intimacy was pressing upon her the fire of my fervor. There was a perfect balance of tasting her while intermittently enticing her with sensual whispers. I would keep going, waiting for an explosion of shudders. I explored deep waters, wanting to be shipwrecked and immersed in the erotic intricacies of all of her. I wanted to be lost, navigating my way to the depths of her most secret pleasures. The scent of her was gardenias and freshly cut roses after a spring shower in Colombia. The cup of her was the most heightened concupiscent erotica. I drank of her rapture, wanting more and more of her.
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O, you precious woman of elegance and beauty, I love you deeply, and I kiss you now in your eternal rest, wishing you a peaceful journey.
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See me in misery. See me in ecstasy. See me in naked vulnerability. See me in debilitating anxiety. See the progression of trauma that scarred my psyche. See me see the divinity in intimacy. See me ending communication with certain family abruptly. See me screaming loudly under dark skies holding a crucifix tightly in death’s valley. See and hear me attempt to explain my mind’s complexities. See the discovery of my Precognitive Empath abilities. See my passion for deep transcendent sensuality. See me weep as I read notes on the back of sentimental photographs silently. See the evolution of my appreciation for women and femininity. I am hopeful yet disconsolate; see my duality. Hear me angrily tell my mind’s distressing ruminations to shut the fuck up repeatedly as if I’m disconnected from my own body. Close your eyes tearfully, and briefly be the embodiment of my agony.
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It has been nine summers since she has been gone; still, her widower cries for her. She was the sunrise of many summers. The glorious bloom of spring flowers. Her kisses were a comfort in the late hours. Beauty and serenity flowed in the narrative of her whispers. She was an angelic warmth in the winter. Love moved like a river within her. Her physical beauty matched the essence of her ethereal nature. In the room she slept he aura still lingers. The one that she immensely loved still wears the symbol of his love for her on his finger. He holds the frame that holds her last picture, his soul reaching for her, he lovingly whispers, Lucia.
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The eyes close, and the tears flow, and the winds blow, and the color of scarlet rapidly drips on snow, and words are spoken that no one will ever know. A diary heavy with immense sorrow is slowly let go, and the coldness reveals its bitterness as if trying to freeze the moment in the bosom of winter’s secrets. Winter blankets the remnants with snow’s heaviness encapsulating tears, sorrow, affliction, love, beauty, and written sentiments that are endless. Scarlet infuses it with its loudness interrupting the frozen white silence. Towering trees stripped of the leaves of their branches sway in strong winter winds as a solemn acknowledgement of what they witnessed. So heavy is the sorrow of life — the pain, the torment, the agony, the indifference. The winds become calm — snow gently falls on the beloved one who sleeps in the cradle of winter’s balm. Scarlet expands as far as it will go, soaking the pages that document the times and places of the depths of sorrow.
Intimate Compositions 