The pages of her diary are filled with
memorable recollections of ecstasy and agony.
In the most intimate writing of her secrecy,
she documents the otherworldly pleasure
of absolutely irresistible ecstasy found in agony.
Tag: Passion
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In her erotic surrender,
She is a beautiful sculpture;
Her intricate contours
and wondrous curves,
like the years of the work
Of a master. -
She is beautiful in her desire
Denying her heart’s feelings no longer
Her want for him only grows stronger
Her soul is deep refreshing water
And her heart is blue fireThe rhythm of her amorous fingers
Causes her erotic whispers
To become euphoric screams that grow louder
She calls his name as if he is inside her
Passionately letting go right after the last letter -
I live, because you love me,
and I am carried in your heart—
but if you should ever stop loving me,
Kiss me passionately one last time in my finality—
and lie to me beautifully,
before I depart. -
Darkness is subtle in its caress.
The soft light slowly exposes her,
Like a sculpture in alluring undress;
It reveals the feminine contours of her feet
and the sensual enchantment of her breasts.
She breathes in eroticism
And exhales euphoria with every breath.
It is an ethereal experience
To discover the levels of her depths.
The well of love in her heart is full;
Her erotic soul is out of control
And absolutely beautiful. -
The wreckage of my soul lies scattered amidst the roses in the cold.
I hope for warmth and again to be made whole.
The tall stems hide me, and the morning dew rolls
off of red and burgundy petals, as if the roses weep for me;
In my shattered sate, I hope for an angel to find me
and love me with everything within her unconditionally.
I am broken but not lifeless; I am desolate but not hopeless—
I have seen many things and have dreamed many dreams;
Restless ghosts walk around me and rouse me from my sleep
to tell me of faded past loves and troubled waters deep.
Still amidst the roses I weep
Still amidst the roses I weep
I hope to see the sun again, but until then
I hide scattered among the roses tall stems;
They whisper sweet words to me and give me water in their nurturing.
The fragrance of them sooth my agony, and I sleep on the softness of fallen petals;
Oh, heaven restore me to the whole man I used to be.
I lie amidst the roses in the shade of their petals listlessly,
Waiting for the day of redemption that I may never see.
Once, I loved fearlessly, but love was never returned to me;
Under colors of red, white, pink, yellow and burgundy, I sleep.
Still amidst the roses I weep
Still amidst the roses I weep
The restless ghosts still come to me and tell me of their anguish;
They tell me of love betrayed and of dreams unaccomplished.
I am dismayed in my tormented state — but still hear their passionate cries.
Mother, if you can hear me, look upon your son in his travail,
And give me of your strength so I can again deeply inhale.
I am in agony and I am broken in my pain—
I cry incessantly, as rose petals fall on me softly;
Daily, they grow taller and flourish more beautifully.
I have survived thus far, because beauty is my company.
I dwell here, where the ants crawl, and the creatures of the night creep.
Still amidst the roses I weep
Still amidst the roses I weep -
Between euphoric breaths,
she confessed that she loved him;
not holding back, she gave him her everything,
and in her moaning, she signaled her joy
and the fulfillment of her longing—
touching his soul, and evoking emotions
that long stirred within the depths of him.
It is then that he said to her, I want no one else;
forever you are my woman.
Without inhibition, she rode him
uncovering the breadth of her eroticism—
she leaned in and kissed him,
whispering to him, how much she had missed him.
And after the last letter, she released the passion of her fire
and kept going as he whispered, faster.
His drive took him over the edge
when she passionately said, mi amor, deeper—
he closed his eyes when she seductively
Started sucking his fingers;
and in the height of his release,
he told her, that he was more than a lover
but that he was in love with her. -
In her surrender, she found unparalleled pleasure.
The words that are said in the most intense moments
are conveyed through sensual whispers and are remembered after.
The fervor of her drive, is like an erotic book with unending chapters;
the usual monotonous positions are left behind in their euphoric discovery
as they both transcend to higher heights of intimacy and ecstasy.
The expressions of her eroticism were the fulfillment of a long held fantasy.
The passion of their interaction could never be duplicated;
every session, is like a salacious entry written secretly in a personal diary—
unique in its exitance, untamed, erotogenic, and fiery.
Her open toe heels, and black silk romper teddy are beautiful simplicity,
yet sexually appealing — highlighting the essence of her femininity.
The importance of foreplay is not missed,
in the sexually stimulating places that he is so enthusiastic to kiss—
She cannot hide her true desires that are revealed in her wetness;
the closing of her eyes, and her sensual sighs, tell him to keep going.
In pleasing her, he is also pleasing himself, in his undying yearning.
Her hips move in a rhythmic circular motion
that cause unselfconscious orgasms and uncontrollable screaming;
In the heat of passion, it is deep inside her that she feels him—
She kisses him again, deeply, to make sure she is not dreaming. -
A vampiress once roamed alone,
looking for love, far away from her home.
Many men had come, and many had gone.
Some she had turned; some she had slowly
drained of their blood from stem to stern.
But after one thousand years unloved, she burned
with desire, for the true love that she yearned;
And when she found him he wouldn’t be turned,
and to her home, with him, she would return.
So she traveled far in search of love
with purple lipstick and black silk gloves;
In the day she slept, but the night was hers.
She was beautiful — with long dark hair,
manicured nails, and a seductive stare.
She went to places with many men there—
The first three she met, they offered sex,
but she drained their blood, and took their breath;
The same for the two after, and then the next.
But the seventh man, he took her hand,
and gave a kiss like a gentleman;
At first they dined with vintage wine,
then they slowly danced; his eyes were kind.
The dawn approached, so she had to go,
but before she left she let him know;
I am a vampiress, and I am old.
My heart does not beat, and my flesh is cold.
He said, My lady you are beautiful,
and now that I know what you are,
still I am not fearful; I promise forever to love you.
He then took her lovingly in his embrace, and said,
My love, let us leave this place.
Your love in darkness will be my fate;
but before the light, let us leave this place.
She looked at him and kissed his face,
and said, My love, let us leave this place. -
In the heat of passion, they lock eyes like nothing else matters.
She holds onto him, lost in the euphoria of flowing eroticism;
Straddling him on a wooden chair, she takes control,
pacing every sensual movement on the tips of her toes.
He pulls her into him, kissing her passionately,
and finding every secret intricacy in her erogenous zones;
he is rewarded with the wildness of her lust and the echoes of her moans.
She purposely teases herself with every thrust, fast and then slow,
wanting the pleasure to last forever — not wanting to let go.
At the height of her euphoria she is beautiful; her nails dig into him,
and he is intoxicated by the pleasure of the feeling
and the lascivious words of her whispering.
Amatory ecstasy totally takes over;
her moans louder, his thrusts deeper.
Tightly, he holds her, caught in the
movements of her rapture.
She screams loudly, falling into him
uncontrollably, and then it’s over.
He looks at her with longing,
because she is his lover,
and he loves her.
Intimate Compositions 