If you ever loved me at all, take the remnants of my broken heart and shattered soul and make a place for me in the vastness of your most affectionate memories, and there I will forever be, rested in your warmth — rescued from the bitter cold of the purgatory of unloved souls who were forgotten by their formers lovers and left unknown without a loving home; in ceaseless weeping they roam; at 4 AM hear them moan, wailing, hoping to be remembered again in beautiful memories of intimacy, that hearken back to sounds of ecstasy. They are revived and again come alive with every former lover’s passionate solo release that used some part of their shared memories or with every familiar place they had both frequented that stir emotions of whatever happened to her or him and the contemplation of what could have been or the sentiment of anything loving.
Category: Poetry
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I give all of myself, without regret and without fear that when I awake you may not be here. If I should lose you, let the pain in my heart be expelled through sleepless days and nights of heavy ceaseless tears — and in my mourning, let me hold you tightly once again, gently placing within the safety and secrecy of my sincere heart, the last remembered image of your beautiful face and the precious memories that we shared.
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Black silk drapes atop radiant skin,
flowing over beautiful slopes and sensual mountains;
Amazingly, she poses perfectly with
an otherworldly aura of beauty; her hair pinned.
Loose strands rest against her face as if
holding the rays of the sun in a loving embrace.
Her lips are honey; her eyes, an ethereal gaze. -
White lace drapes beautifully over smooth
wonderfully fragranced, moisturized sensuality.
It holds two lips in its embrace tightly;
Wet flesh peeks through its intimate opening
not so subtly, visually, pleasing aesthetically.
It is usually worn with heels and a lace plunge babydoll,
in a combination that enthralls sexually.
They are panties that do not need to be removed
for oral or penetrative pleasure in the heights of ecstasy.
From behind, what lies in-between white lace, protrudes
beautifully and even more prominently —
leading to a wet picturesque magnificent entry. -
Whispers spoken in heavy breaths
Tell of a sensual aura, a beautiful soul,
And erotic depths. -
The marrow of my soul calls out for loving warmth from the desolate cold. In the sea of sorrow I am unmercifully lashed to and fro. There is no lifeboat; memories of past love is my only prospective rescue. The hypothermia of the cold water slowly sets in, and I am listless — resigned to my fate. In my endless wading, for love’s reemergence I wait, but the moon’s pull causes the tide to rise; I am numb, I am so numb, both outside and inside. My foolish pride I did not cast aside. Why could I not tell her right then and there that if she walked away from me, a part of me would die ? If I must perish from the cold alone, I can at least say that I tried with everything within me to survive, but love is so difficult to find. My perpetual teardrops fall into the deep dark water that envelops me and are dissipated gradually into its dense salinity. The imminence of total immersion is upon me; after the next furious wave of sorrow, I shall be no more. I must quickly transcribe my own epitaph in solemn whispers, invoking passion and recalling intimacy in the warmth of the summer. My sincere letter;
Dear Love,
If you should find my body, resurrect me in the healing of your affection and intimacy. Let me be broken from the shackles of pain and desolation and be set free; let me find an angel who will set me upon her mighty wings as I cry and take me up into the night skies — flying over the dark and deep waters that made naught the tears I cried and from which I was inexplicably revived.
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Tonight, hold me and let me me cry long held tears of pain in my vulnerability. Let your hair brush against my solemn face and kiss me in my weeping. Allow me to find comfort in the warmth of your breasts and peacefully sleep, finally finding my elusive rest. Tearfully, let me tell you all the things that you mean to me in sincerity; let me breathe the breath that you breathe and passionately give you all the love that is within me. Let me wash your hair in the wonderful aroma of nourishing conditioner with chamomile and lavender and blow-dry your flowing river right after. I find solace in the simple things, like watching you roll the length of your hair with curlers or seeing you moisturize your skin with body butter in the vanity mirror. Just your presence alone saves me from mental anguish and its terror. I adore the subtle intimacy of your loving whispers; tell me your feminine secrets, for I am in love with you that deeply. Let me see what you see and feel what you feel in all the ranges of your sensitive emotions, not just when you are happy. With love, you restore the pieces of my once shattered heart, slowly and methodically. What can a mortal render to an angel, save what he himself is and hopes to be? I give you even the marrow of my bones, my heart, and the very essence of me. I turn to you my angel; I turn to you, and you look upon me with gentle eyes. The words I transcribe from the bowels of my mind would have to be written in the ink of white gardenias, crushed rose petals and tears to even begin to describe the deep intimacy of my emotions. I love you with a transcendent love that pierces the clouds and touches heaven’s gates; tonight, my sweet love — hold me, sing to me, and lovingly caress my face.
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For so long, she was away from him
And shed tears that were carried in desolate winds;
Now, joyous tears fall onto her hair
From the face of an exceedingly loving man,
And in the warmth and tight grip of his embrace,
She is safe and loved again.
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The greatest tragedy would be the disappearance of your beautiful face from the index of my memories. In my blindness, I would try to find you; In desolate darkness, unceasingly, I would loudly call for you — hoping to be again in your embrace. In the darkness, I would kiss you, then gently touch the contours of your face, to rediscover your angelic beauty that escaped me and to make sure I never lose you again in the corridors of my memories. I would keep you in the depths of me in a place where there are large full bloomed roses, peaceful fuchsia rivers, flawless blue diamonds and celestial redwood trees. I would brand you upon the chambers of my heart so you could be a part of the life that flows through me and the breath that I breathe.
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Her dripping elegance and subtle sensual elements are a commanding presence that shows a distinct feminine strength and unsurpassable confidence. She is well versed in politics, business, haute couture, literature, and world events. She enjoys frequent sex and kinkiness complete with black lace, ropes and whips — and she doesn’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks. She masturbates at least once a day; twice, if she has more time to play. Her two favorite vibrators are her best friends, and she has no inhibitions about using them. She is particular in who she selects in men, and she generally doesn’t keep other women as friends. She likes nice things, but she is still cognizant of what she spends. Daily, she turns down dogged pursuits by several men. She is a once divorced woman with no intention of ever getting married again. She is sexy, but to truly know her, is to hear the utterances of her heart and to discover the love she truly wants. She is sensual and desirable, but to sincerely converse with her, is to know her beauty on a transcendent level. Some disparage her with hurtful whispers and say things to others about her that are malicious; but still, she lives boldly, comfortable in the woman she is, stepping flawlessly in six inch stiletto heels, and radiant in the light of her spirit that her gorgeous smile reveals.
