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.
Tag: Emotions
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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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Stillness settles; the weeping soul finds solace. Release comes; rivers of sorrow overflow, forming streams of emotions that only weeping angels know. The weary spirit finds rest in a place where hyacinth and lavender winds blow. Mysteries are revealed. The last loving whispers of infinite souls are unsealed. Aura is replenished in meditative essence. In a quiet room a powerful rebirth takes place with only the walls to bear witness. What is written is akin to divine poet laureates collaborating to diligently craft every sentence. In the stillness, the divine feminine begins again in beautiful nakedness. To truly love her, is to embrace her with a pure heart and dry her tears with a thousand passionate kisses.
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The comfort of a woman, affectionate, calming, and feminine is healing to the soul that is hurting. Sometimes tears run in the moment that release is found. To be in her embrace as the warmth of her hands caress one’s face is to know the unrestrained expressions of her love. To be in her presence and to share in the balm of her essence is to discover her angelic existence. Even the fragrance of her freshly conditioned hair brings a tranquility that leads to ecstasy. Her whispers are endless lines of sentimental poetry. The beautiful intricacy of her intimacy is a transcendent lesson in romantic history. Her very existence is the epitome of a divine mystery. Emotions of pure love overflow when she whispers, Kiss me.
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So many tears fall from their eyes. With no wings to fly, they keep falling from the skies. The silent walls witnessed their last cries.
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I remember romantic nights drifting into early mornings at Café Intermezzo. I remember us enjoying New York Cheesecake with excellent cappuccino. I remember the intimate setting that led to profound conversation and amorous kissing. I remember your voice, soft spoken, telling me the depths of your heart and me intently listening. I remember how beautiful you looked, every detail of what you were wearing. I remember your peep toe heels, your backless white dress, the sweetness of your breath, your curled hair, your Chanel earrings and people smiling and staring. I remember the wonderful scent of your perfume as we were embracing.
I remember holding you in my arms and my heart racing. I remember us vibing to the soothing rhythms of Spanish guitar strings. I remember moving my chair adjacent to yours and the inundation of deep feelings. I remember the rapture of our collective emotions. I remember more kissing and the loving words of intimate whisperings. I remember the transcendence of our communication. I remember us feeding each other at our little table — the candle next to flowers on top of white tablecloth flickering. I remember kissing your hand and asking you to be my woman. I remember the passion in your eyes and the absolute beauty of your countenance under the full moon’s illumination. I remember us not waiting to drive back to your location for lovemaking. I remember the way it pleased me to give you pleasure hearing your moaning. I remember passionate riding and the words you were saying. I remember your loud release after eye contact and heavy breathing.
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Beautiful mother, daughter of Constancia, hear the words that I whisper: you are in my heart, and I will love you forever. There will be no reconciliation with the person who is supposedly my father. His memory is washed away from me like drops of water in a raging flood. He is unworthy and cowardly; I renounce the lineage of his blood.
Search my soul, and read the letters of my heart detailing the trauma within me that is untold. I am a flower alone in a dark and desolate place that withers in the cold. My petals fall and are taken in the wind. Here, it is unforgiving. There is no compassion or understanding. I am at war with demons; I slay with sword and shield unrelenting.
Amaryliss, let me feel the warmth of your presence. Comfort your descendant with a kiss. Embrace me in celestial sunshine. Sing to me the songs of your mother and her mother and all those before her. Bestow upon me preternatural power. Be with me, especially in my most despondent hours. Let me float on peaceful waters in my slumber. Strip away from me all hindrances that threaten my ascension. My blood is your blood — I am eternally your faithful son.
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The hands in black satin gloves glide across the smooth surface of what holds the lifeless. Her husband kneels beside her casket, giving her a final kiss. There is weeping in the great hall. It is cold, and outside rain falls. Silver haired women adorning black veils conceal gold crucifix necklaces beneath black shawls. Old men who have survived many years of deep sorrow sit stoically in the back rows. Tears stream as cold rain turns into snow. There are variations of flowers in many different colors, but the lifeless does not know. Six strapping men stand in position to lift her again. After hoisting, they walk slowly in tandem; each one of them wearing gloves of black satin. Rose petals fall gently on snow as if the roses themselves shed tears in mourning. Winter winds carry the sounds of sorrow. A sea of black is the procession that follows. Black clothes contrast against white snow as if the pitch darkness of night was invading the brightness of daylight. Elder men lean on vintage brass handle walking canes at the grave site. Widowers comfort each other as they gather. Though usually stoic—still, they cry for her. She was a beautiful wife and mother they whisper. At the moment of the lowering, her husband falls to his knees; weeping, he reaches for her. She was immensely loved. She no longer lives, yet still, she does.
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My love, listen to me carefully: you are the ascension of joy within me. You are the discovery of immense beauty. Search my heart thoroughly, and find the secret compartments that I keep my precious memories; you will discover that you are there in my embrace eternally at the exact moment when I first caressed your face and kissed you passionately. Stare into your mirror, and see through my eyes what I see — and if tears should fall, know that they are expressions of love from the deep well of my soul. In the comfort of your arms I know that I am truly loved and not alone. Wherever we are together I know that I am home; sweetheart, I know that I am home. For so long I thought that I would forever be alone. I was once shattered, but you made me whole. I am yours completely, search the depths of me, leave nothing unknown. Now, I give you my eternal vow; to love you forever as fervently as I do now. My spirit is drawn to you like the moon’s gravitational pull on the vast oceans. I rise to kiss you, and spiraling waterfalls brush against my face. The physical intimacy of us begins with a gentle touch culminating in a transcendent rush. After, we hold each other, speaking with whispers then fall asleep together in an indescribable hush.
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I am forever yours in sickness and health, in poverty and wealth, through the fires of hell and where the angels with golden crowns dwell. I am yours without transaction or inhibition. I am yours without prodding or convincing; it is gladly with all my heart to love you my decision. I am yours unconditionally and without uncertainty. Cast your gaze upon me, kiss me, and tell me that you love me with tears of sincerity. Let us reaffirm our vows in candlelight silently after the intensity of unadulterated intimacy. I please you with everything within me willingly. My mouth craves the taste of your want. I am infused with the passion of your desire. Your perfume invigorates me, and I am taken away with the wonder of your femininity. The totality of you I love, from crown to feet — everything above and underneath; from the limitless heavens and to the undiscovered depths of the sea. There are many beautiful women under the heavens, but it is only you that I truly see. I belong to you, and you belong to me. Forsaking all others we have become one flesh in life and in death. My breath is your breath, and your breath is my breath. Embrace me in loving nakedness, the suppleness of your beautiful breasts against my chest, let our hearts communicate through joyous rhythm and forever connect.
Intimate Compositions 