Sweet grapes of your vineyard are excitedly crushed. Your wine flows effortlessly fermented in ecstasy — the taste of you intoxicates me as I drink more and more from your sensuous cup.
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The darkness offers an indescribable solace. The smoothness of her skin is the epitome of the magnificence of a woman’s softness. Soft light gently illuminates the feminine beauty and sensuousness that so many envy. They lust after her curvature but foolishly step over her true power as a natural nurturer; they could never be profound and loving enough to dig deeper to find the diamonds hidden within her. Indeed, she is a beautiful wonder yet to be discovered. She is alone with her thoughts. The contemplation of her is like a revered book constantly read, re-read and referenced by the most distinguished scholars. To kiss her is heavenly — to possess her heart is to have a gift desired ineffably . To know even just a small portion of her secrets is to know her intimately. To know the loving thoughts expressed in her eyes; to truly resonate with the pain in her cries, is to know pure love eternally.
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I sought understanding, but I found none. I sought love with many tears, but it came with conditions. I craved the healing depths of affection, but rejection was my portion. I tried to hide the sorrow in my eyes, but my attempts were futile. My existence has consisted of tribulations and many trials. I have walked in the depths of that valley were death shadowed me constantly without mercy. I have unknowingly sat in the company of those who have tried to hurt me. The blood that runs within me is that of a vindictive family. I have seen the ugliness of internal strife all of my life. I have been called upon by people that I love to choose sides. In dark quiet rooms I have incessantly cried. I lost a part of myself when my mother died. I have not exceptionally achieved, though I’ve tried. I have not distinguished myself in my own critical eyes. What is most invaluable to me is peace of mind. I breathe, but still I feel buried alive. I see, but I stumble constantly as if I am blind. I eat, but I am never satisfied. I sleep, but I’m still doggedly tired. The ecstasy of intimacy is one of the few things that makes me feel alive. I seek warmth to prevent myself from becoming utterly cold inside. I seek an ethereal transcendence, but maybe it will come in time.
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Oh, the beauty of womanhood that cannot be replicated in mere sentiment or whittled down to the objectification of envied elements. To find the secret gems of her soul, one must be immersed in her completely. She is a woman, naturally — made up of magnificent complexities and steeped in the glory of femininity. Sitting on satin sheets, she unfastens her bra and finds release. Her movements are graceful; her feminine essence, unmistakable. Her heart is beautiful. Her love, incomparable and irreplaceable. The intrinsic elegance of her presence is breathtakingly wonderful. The soothing words of her whispers are essential.
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Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment. —John 12:3 (KJV)
And behold a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment,
And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. —Luke 7: 37- 38 (KJV)
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Oh, beautiful Angel, see the state of my longing soul and the immensity of my sorrow — release me from the desolation of today and the despair of tomorrow. Descend upon me lovingly so the shelter and comfort of your wings I can borrow. Let me abide with you and sleep peacefully as you watch over me. Sing to me sweet songs that only the heavens know. Whisper words that are beautiful and celestial. Extract the many teardrops of my pain and turn them into calming midnight rain. Embrace me as a mother with a newborn child bonding lovingly after the pain. Let me be reborn in your light at night, and in the morning, kiss me in my slumber before you take flight. Touch my eyes, and illuminate my sight. Allow my head to rest in the valley of your breasts; the magnificence of your immortal heartbeat being the source of my warmth and my rest. Leave with me many strands of your hair so with a piece of heaven, I can dry my often falling tears when I am in distress; I will reach for you, Angel, and the healing balm of your caress.
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Love is the chorus of you. You are a song with angelic verses beautiful. You are a storm — your rain is warm and sensual. You are my calm; the rapture of you is so fucking wonderful. The vastness of the love you hold is immeasurable. The secret depths of your soul are more precious than refined gold. Diamonds are your eyes; your lips are more supple and sweet than raw honey poured over the sweetest peach. Your smile is the glory of infinite starlight. You are heaven within my reach.
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May my enemies tremble before me in fear. Let my hands and the iron of my weapons be strengthened with the vengeance of my tears. May the mighty archangels bestow upon my head the golden crown of warfare. Let my adversaries vacate their fractured thrones with regretful wails and heavy tears. May their false bravery and cowardly hearts fail them when they witness the hellfire of my stare. May my mighty sword swiftly strike them with the ghostly sounds of wailing winds. May their names and history be stricken from the record and never be spoken again. If I fall in battle, to hell I will take them; let my blood be upon them and the legacy of my name be forever unbroken. When night falls silent, let my enemies lament in torment knowing that I will come for them. When I am no more, through the fierceness of the hearts of the woman that I love and my offspring, I will rise again.
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Let the falling tears of my sorrow permeate fertile soil where into roses they will one day grow. Let the song of my heart be the whispers of ascending angels. Let the stills of my life’s movie be framed and hung in heaven’s halls so that my mother can see me again. May my detractors tremble in their dreams when they see me in glory bearing sword and shield wielding prodigious power in the center of a fiery wheel. May the archangels lift me up when hell’s torment seeks to destroy me unmercifully and utterly. In my slumber let love be my constant whisper. May the nurturing nature and beautiful essence of women be honored. May light rain wash away the tears of my pain. May any obstacles be decimated on the path of vanquishment and radiance that I have claimed. When I am reborn, let them know me by another name. May I conquer forever, and may nothing again be the same.
