You are loving, passionate, and profoundly intimate with a beautiful spirit. What others do not see in you, I do. You are a rarity chosen from even among the few. From your inception you were a blessing. You are a deeply devoted woman and sincere in your giving. The intellect of you is pleasing. To sit and converse with you is to talk to a woman of immense understanding. Your discourse is refreshing. Moreover, your resilience is infectious, resurrecting hope in the hopeless. Your words are seeds in the hearts of men that spring forth life. You are honored both in silence and in vocalness. The eyes of your admirers fall upon you with illuminated wonder. You are the glory of the dawn of the rising sun after a stormy night in September. You are a friend, lover, businesswoman, deep well of compassion, mother, sister, and daughter crowned under heaven’s cover. You are gorgeous; an object of desire. In your bosom there is fire. Your recognition is that of a different caliber. Your love is invaluable. To weep in your arms and let go is a transcendental therapy unknown. To walk in your feminine is to walk in the sacred nature of your being. Many times you are a healer without knowing. You are one thousand rivers peacefully flowing in synchronized rhythm with gardens, vineyards, and fields of pink roses surrounding them . In stellar light there you stand glowing. There is great comfort in the tone of your voice. Your delicate touch causes tears to well up in the eyes of the afflicted and the anxious. You are loved, so much. You are precious. You are a red diamond untouched.
Tag: Woman
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Fearless beauty overlooks the lights of the city. Black hair flowing over black satin bestows upon her the mysterious darkness of a raven. She is vampiric in nature — sleeping all day then at night awakening. There was a time when she held back, showing mercy; now, she slays in heels, conquering all that she can see, flawlessly. No, she will not fucking suffer in silence quietly. She has many lovers, not fucking them all separately, necessarily. She drinks an amaretto sour and smokes a cigarette at an ultra exclusive event. She stalks the secret places where lascivious noises are heard from people fucking with masked faces. If she wants you to know her, you will know her. If not, she will remain nameless and faceless with no traces. The night calls her, and she answers with a whisper. A tempest fast approaches. She is lightning. She is thunder.
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I love you deeply,
She said genuinely
From sensuous lips
So sweetly. -
U.S. Poet Laureate, Natasha Trethewey; a brief introduction and two readings:
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Barbara Mason — You Never Loved Me (At All)
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Black Widow beautiful, untamable, terrifyingly calculating on wealthy men blinded by ecstasy — unaware, frighteningly vulnerable. Her tongue is a tool of magic that can easily turn the tables. The depth of primal lust for her: the unbridled desire is insatiable. Her sexual flower is extremely beautiful, wonderfully fragrant, and wet like white gardenias in morning dew. Her exquisite fucking is irresistible; her breasts are sensually supple. Sweat beads on her feminine flesh when she rides hard in the saddle. The scent of her essence is the most expensive Parisienne perfume. Her venom is most potent when she softly says, I love you. Barely after one sensual session men desperately want her to whisper, I do. So many hastily run to their own impending doom. Her heart is dark, but her ravishing smile can light up a room. Perfectly manicured feet are concealed in size 7 pointed toe heels. She is well traveled; her favorite haunt is Hotel TwentySeven in the Netherlands. Again and again she breaks even the strongest men. Instantly they are entangled in her silk web of smooth words and erotic overtures. You could make love to her wonderfully with sincere intimacy while reciting beautiful poetry of everlasting fidelity, but she would never be yours. The verses of her song are entrapment, and death is her chorus. She once loved but was betrayed of love. She once tearfully gave her all, but her heart was shattered in the chilled winds of a late and bitter fall. If you look closely one can see eyes of beauty devoid of love and empathy. Her psyche is an intricately unemotional and psychotic mystery. The art of her seduction is a master class in eroticism unattainable by the majority. She casts her spell of calming lullabies. When her husband is asleep she kisses him and whispers her final goodbyes — unleashing the terror within her. There he lies in an elaborately crafted bed adorned in a light blue satin pajama set appearing to be in deep sleep, but he is not alive. There is an updated life insurance policy on his nightstand, newly signed. He’s a seventy year old gentleman with a documented heart condition given a substance the medical examiner will never find. She stares at him in silence through lifeless eyes and smiles; then she dials three numbers with hysterical cries, weeping, screaming venomous lies.
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Speak to me one last time before eternal silence comes and I am left undone. Before finality makes its haste, let us kiss passionately in our final embrace, my tears of love falling endlessly on your angelic face. Forgive me if I have ever hurt you. My tears are tears of love and the sentiments of deep sorrow. Let us now confess our love for each other fervently and forget about tomorrow. We hold on to each other perpetually never letting go. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, but I swear on my own blood that the angels with sentimental tears write about us. I swear on my mother’s blood that I love you with all my heart. Neither life nor death could pull us apart. You wipe my tears away as the world falls away. Don’t go; please stay. What fate is this that I fall on my knees beside your bedside and weep trying to appeal to the empathy of destiny to give us at least one more day? Hold on, baby; breathe. Take my breath, and come into the picturesque gardens of my secret depths. Let your hair down and dance with me in vineyards of glory. Take all of me. Take me with you on your peaceful journey. In my loving embrace the last tears fall from your eyes. To find you, I will search my heart’s secret chambers and look toward the skies. You sleep, my love. You sleep. You are immensely beautiful. I love you.
Intimate Compositions 