WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT

in crimson breath i draw your image,
ruby rogue, apple temptation.
temptation, yes temptation.
GOD
I want to swallow you whole
and keep you in the pit of my stomach
I want to rip your skin open
and see your true face
I want to fuse my soul with you
even if it stains me red

Dear Rogue, come ****** my heart out
thief that you are, of my innocence
and my days of apathy
Color me, even in blood
For I would rather bear your mark
than remain an empty canvas

Dear Rouge, know you are the apple of my eye,
the source of my passion,
the greatest possession I have known.
Your image lingers,
I cannot resist.

I do not want to resist.

I want to float awash in your torrent.
And lose myself in it.
Cast my visage off like skin,
that we may be naked and kindred in exposure.
And hungry, still.
That we may devour each other.
Consume each other.
Consummate each other.

I want to **** your cherry.
Bad metaphor, I know, but such are the workings of passion.

I want to want.
And I want to want more. To covet.
For you I would sin and burn in elation.

So, R., what would you do for me?

I want you to steal my heart and claw it open till it bleeds a sea of rouge

She doesn’t flinch beneath the weight of heat,
My breath explores the hollow of her thighs.
She waits—unmoving—where the birches meet,
She arches slowly… then my hush sighs.

My breath explores the hollow of her thighs,
A damp note, I taste the waking skin.
She arches slowly… then my hush sighs.
I circle close, inhale where love has been.

A damp note, I taste the waking skin,
Her pulse, a Spring fawn trembling beneath dry leaves.
I circle close, inhale where love has been,
Cool wet air licks the heat her silent body weaves.

Her pulse, a Spring fawn trembling beneath dry leaves,
A long, slow, sigh traces curves—shadow drips to skin.
Cool wet air licks the heat her silent body weaves,
A ****** breeze gazes upon her folds, eyes deep within.

A long, slow, sigh traces curves—shadow drips to skin,
I breathe in her gasp—wildflowers, warm and wet.
A ****** breeze gazes upon her folds, eyes deep within,
Lips part slowly, a drip lingers and falls—lips met.

She doesn’t flinch beneath the weight of heat,
I am a tender hush, a windy night, her secret dream.
She waits—unmoving—where the birches meet,
Forever as one, a silent, deep, pleasured scream.

to be lasted over, but never met.
to be desired fiercely, but never held.
a fantasy. a fetish.
they see you as a threat.

they dream the dream of your idea,
all you represent.
they reach to touch you freely,
but flinch when you touch back.

because they feel it:
your wholeness is too heavy
to carry on their back.
your layers too tangled
to play with just one thread.
your words anchor too deeply
to catch in fishing nets.

you scare.
you amaze.
you trigger.
so they retreat instead.

they give up before even trying
to walk a mile with you.
because they see
the space you take
just being you.

You are too beautiful
to be touched
by anyone, by me

alone, I hope
if I may, if I dare
to do what someone may one day

I pass your house
There is only a window
between me and your bed

in which I dream myself
when I cannot sleep
and hold my breath

and time stands still
intoxicated by your lips
I feel your hand

on my chest, no
I won't run away
when you open the door

When darkness silently
smolders my restless soul,
come like a steady storm,
dangerously pull me into a gravity
I would never want to escape.

For I would know you
by the touch that trembles
on my petal-soft skin,
making me quiver
in sensual anticipation.

I would know you
by your musky scent,
in which my breath dissolves,
swirling in seduction,
craving to explore more.

I would know you
by your slow breath,
caressing my skin like silk,
by the sound of your steady footsteps,
trembling the ground on which I stand.

I would recognize your soul
in the middle of a murmur,
melting me with its lingering
presence that penetrates me
with a fervent, fervid passion.

Stirring storms in full silence,
you make my desire swell,
till I slowly surrender
to savour this moment
of alluring, unexplored joy.

You I would know,
even with the last beat
of my restless heart,
my **** last breath
chanting your name like prayer.

🎀  𝒩𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒶 𝒥𝒶𝓃𝒾  🎀

आहे मन हावरट, हवं त्याला सगळं,
संसाराच्या मोहात अडकले ते आगळं.

मित्रदेखील हवेत त्याला,
मैत्रिणीदेखील हव्या,
Relation मध्ये येऊ
अशा आशा नव्या-नव्या.

मान-सन्मान हवा,
वाहवाही हवी त्याला,
पण हवंय सगळं फुकट –
मेहनत करायची कशाला?

Materialistic मोह
त्याला आवरत नाही,
आयपत नसेल तरी मोठी गाडी घेऊ –
हरकत नाही काही.

हावरटपणाच्या या विळख्यात गुरफटून मन जाते,
आयुष्याचा शेवट मात्र फक्त राख उरते.

A lone apple blossom clings inside sticky heat.
She blooms too late—her petals ache with desires.
I press my thigh—her fleeting scent, without mine, incomplete.
The mirror knows my hungers, captive by summer briars.

She blooms too late—her petals ache with desires.
I spread for her—hot breath, the mirror’s caress, skin wet as dew.
The mirror knows my hungers, captive by summer briars.
Her fingers—stamens—circle—I ache—I view.

The mirror knows my hungers, captive by summer briars.
Blossom falls—her lace, a pool, straps drift as leaves.
Her fingers—stamens—circle—I ache—I view.
She wilts in glass—her nectar, wind-blown, grieves.

Blossom falls—her lace, a pool, straps drift as leaves.
I touch—visions of her caress—her sighs fall as stars.
She wilts in glass—her nectar, wind-blown, grieves.
Alone, I bloom—my arch of ecstasy, lonely as love’s scars.

I slip down the looping slopes of your curly hair.
Just when I think I'll stop,
the curve of your scented mane flips me upside down.

I shout with happiness, like a child in an amusent park.

I walk, I roam, I run-
I travel through every path of your soft, black hair.

And when the ride ends, I'm already crazy to slip again.

Her eyes—so magical, so beautiful,
her soul shines through.
No matter how, it just does:
a perfect human, with a glance
that claims.

She doesn’t take the stage—
she owns it, she lives it.
Every blink makes the world flicker—
a soft fire burning
without permission.

I can’t tell if I’m falling in love
or just living in awe of a being so perfect.
She’s sitting across from me,
and it’s unbearable—

the way her fingers trace the rim of her glass,
like it’s the most intimate thing in the room.
She shifts slightly, and so does the gravity in my chest.
I haven’t said anything.
Probably for the best.

Because my hands tremble beneath the table—
not from fear,
but from the ache of holding back everything I’d say
if I believed I deserved to be heard.

Her eyes—still rimmed in that inky black—
don’t glance, they lock.
She sees something—maybe me,
or maybe she’s just letting me believe it.

Her lips look like velvet left out in moonlight—
soft, secret, poetic.
Like every word she’d speak writes itself.
I reach for the strength to stay fated,
holding the silence like it’s sacred.

She doesn’t talk much.
She doesn’t need to.
Her silence hums louder than a crowded room,
and I’m starstruck by her presence.

Her laugh fills the room with a kind of passion—
too alive to ignore.
It makes me unravel.
And I’m not sure if I want to run
or lean closer
and ask her to say my name.

how do I sound known words
without being a cliché
how do I explain your being
without reducing you to normalcy
how do I explain I want you
when we are two worlds apart
how do I ask you these questions
Without echoing naivety  
how do I put question marks on these questions
                                                       ­  How?

set me ablaze with your fiery aura
keep me safe in your welcoming hands
awaken me with your gentle touch
make my world anew with your smile
free me from bondages of loneliness
color me blind with your essence
                                           is this how?