Our fruitful energy

I dream of a fruitful kind of love with you,
where we crave for each others sweet sappy bodies.

Where you bite my lip as if it were the freshest of strawberries your mouth has ever tasted,
where you **** on my ******* the same way you eat a ripe tender plum in the summer, and then watching me melt into my own nectarous juices.

A fruitful kind of love where you love the way my tongue dances on your neck all the way down to your torso, like you are a peach whose succulent flavour is dripping and I have to try with all my attentive mite to not waste a single drop.

Where in the end, we are left with sugary mouths and exhausted bodies but still having enough fruitful energy for another round.

Our souls at night.
They whisper in secret tongues of our midnight love affair.
Echoing desires.
Moaning to be heard.  
Yearning for satisfaction.
For relief,
For love,
For only your love.

The sun shall set and the moon will reign the night.
My celestial body will enfold in its presence.
I live and breathe with the same waters the moon reflects apon.
Mångata,
We dance ‘til dawn,
As you start to wane,
As your rays depart and;
As we give greetings to the morning sun.

I love you more than you know,
More than you will ever know
And
I love you more than I will ever be able to understand
Because, your love was temporary
But mine is timeless.

The tango with death is a compilation of memories that have become the decider of my departure.
To be or to be non-existent?
If everything before this moment matters or if this moment is all that really matters,
That if you are even considering death,
Are those moments even worth staying for?
“You are the ultimate decider”,death whispered in my ear with a smirk.
A swift dance, twirling and spinning in my room with him clutching on my pain, your sadness.
The splits you open in your arm becomes your euphoric relief but the smell of blood and metal call him closer. You’re inches away from touching and minutes away from kissing
It is an enticing moment with death as you start romanticizing your end.

So am I truly the ultimate decider anymore when logic starts to mumble away and death keeps replaying and taunting, foundling and seducing me to his grip by using my own hopelessness dread and loneliness against me?

Time slows down
It sort of melts away.
The sun burns alone

BLOOD RED

My soul it burns in the same way
Loves just as furiously
Just as rapidly
Just as constantly,
That if you dare come close
You’ll risk turning into ashes
Because my love is ultimately overpowering.
It’s more love than you can handle.
More love that you will ever comprehend

It’s love you can only lust for.
Only crave. Only nibble from.

Love that you will want to take whole bites of, love that you will want to fill your body with, selfishly eating as if I’m a buffet.

Using my inferno love, my inferno being, my inferno energy to make you feel less alone, less pathetic.      

“More manly”

Feeding your nutrients by stealing all of mine.  Falsely claiming me because your intentions were never truly pure.

Because I know how to love.
You can only mimic it,
Play pretend,
Fake true intentions
Mirror my fiery passion because the closest you can get to tasting my
Love is if you pretend I’m all you will want to eat.