Rescue me from the torment of uncertainty,
And with the sweetness of your lips,
Tell me emphatically that you love me—
Lest I perish from heartbreak, unloved and in a state of insanity,
In tears, reaching for illusions of you—
Embracing nothingness, and telling you again and again
That you are my angel, and that you are beautiful.
I am shattered, but cradle me in my ruin;
I am unloved, so hold me in your bosom,
and let me feel the heartbeat of love again;
I am in constant pain, so don’t forsake me
when I fall to my knees in incessant weeping;
My body and soul are weary, so when you look upon me
kiss me, and whisper sweet things to me when I am sleeping;
I cry out, from the depths and darkness of desolation,
so spread your white wings in light, and rescue me
from utter devastation — my angel.
She is so much more than they could ever know;
When you look upon her, see a beautiful sculpture of the creator,
But more importantly, see the beauty that lies within her—
The longing of her soul, and the grace of her demeanor.
Strapless stiletto heels, reveal the sensual subtly of her appeal;
Burgundy polished, pedicured feet with ankle bracelet
Make her feminine arches spectacularly undeniable.
The confidence in her walk is a slayer of men’s hearts—
And in its womanly intricacy, a thing of absolute beauty;
Without heels, she is still a goddess — but in heels,
She surpasses all, in the harnessing of her sexual prowess.
The softness of her feet, displaying the beautiful color of her toes
where they peep, is an exercise in excellence;
They match her short black sundress and flawlessly impress.
Academics try to encapsulate the mystery of her feminine essence,
Debating the ethereal nature of every slight movement in her steps.
Her sexy toe rings, in addition to everything else,
Will make your heart jump and take away your breath.
Through a symphony of moaning, your body tells me of its longing.
I am passionate in my approach and intent in my listening.
To please you, is more than just mere expressions of the physical;
It is primal passion, long lasting, mixed with something ethereal.
I immerse myself in you, after a red sky fades into the night
And the color of the sky becomes midnight blue.
You hold onto me, tightly, shuddering uncontrollably,
Unable to express to me what you feel, verbally, but I know; baby, I know.
I must venture deeper to capture the raw essence of your primal heart;
I want you to tell me the secrets of your erotic desires, as if we were long distance lovers.
Whisper to me, not what I want to hear, but the things you’ve wanted to try for years.
Our intimacy started when I kissed your neck and shoulders, as you let down your hair.
The beauty of your aura must be appreciated, so I step back and stare;
With sensual eyes, I step back and stare.
I close my eyes to savor the moment, and when they are again opened, a goddess is there.
A beautiful goddess, with long flowing waterfalls for hair, is standing there.
He remembers every intimate intricacy of her sensuality,
the taste of her intensity, and the reaction of her body.
His uninhibited soul, kisses her deeply and wildly.
The silent anticipation is quickly drowned in screams
and unquenchable erotic whispers in-between.
There is no reason or validation needed to love you.
There is no rational or explanation of the feelings
within me, when I hold you.
There is nothing in all the worlds more beautiful than you.
There is too long a list, to write the traits that define you.
There is a particularly wonderful aura about you.
There is no uncertainty that my heart belongs to you.
There is a certain silence after intimacy that
denotes to your heart all of the words that my
mouth wants to tell you.
Kirk whalum & George Duke – Because You Loved Me
https://youtu.be/hNICl8RuxLI
When love is no more, the viciousness of words
is the the weapon that cuts to the core;
all that is left are melancholic whispers, and thoughts of regret.
Years of unhappiness is a slow death,
culminating in the gasping of air in final breaths—
from deep wounds, the soul is disfigured,
and the heart relinquishes passionate feelings in its relent.
There are no goodbye kisses or last intimate experiences;
after the last screams, hatred rises to the surface,
and tears are shed in stagnant silence.
The door closes, and the first night of loneliness
brings more melancholia and darkness.
In an empty dwelling, after it finally sets in,
reality is cruel in its starkness.
The black veil is taken away by strong winds,
exposing the depths of agony in her weeping;
there is anguish in her rising, and no rest in her sleeping.
Listen intently, and hear the sorrow of her speaking.
Before misery takes over completely,
she hides the joyous parts of her heart for safe keeping.
The weight of woe makes it hard for her to breathe;
the heaviness of it tears the soul’s fabric
and causes wailing of the deeply wounded spirit.
Unceasing torment renders her numb and listless.
In the darkness, she whispers incoherent utterances in the chair she sits.
Reality is harsh in its coldness — and it can be merciless;
Oh heaven, please turn her many tears in to diamonds,
and her piercing wails, into a joyous song.
Death has taken away from her, what she has loved for so long—
hands, adorned in black satin gloves, lovingly slide down the entire length of the casket,
where inside there is lifelessness — heavy teardrops fall on him
as she leans over, and as if in a trance — she stares at him.
She whispers something to him, before kissing him;
an utterance of secrecy that only belongs to her and him.
Six solemn faced men line up to carry him, to hollowed earth, where they will lay him.
It is there, that she comes with flowers, and weeps in her praying.
The cold fall winds blow against her face and cause her tears to fall away,
as if trying to comfort her in her mourning.
She will see him again in the light of heaven’s dawning.
He is no more, but in her heart, she carries him,
so he walks among the living — breathing, seeing, and whispering.
Even in his departing, her heart still belongs to him.
She is beautiful, as much as she is loving.
She is beautiful, as much as she is loving.
Intimate Compositions 