Scorching,
her lingering gaze.

If only I could bathe
in her greying clouds,
in that black vortex
hidden in the storm
of her restless soul.

Torrid,
her warm embrace.

If only I could swim
in her pale downpour,
in that chilling curtain
hiding the world
in her summer storm.

Sweltering,
her mouth caressing.

If only I could drown
in her torrential descent,
in that ephemeral beauty
hiding nothing
of her thunderous lust.

Parching,
her heaving breathing.

If only I could sink
deeper into her,
into that fathom
hiding so much
of her carnal delights.

Searing,
her thrumming hips.

If only I could float
atop her wanton storm,
into the crackling light
revealing the droplets
on her undaunted curves.

Hot,
her body on mine.

You are the pure soul of 5 year old girl
awed by the infinity of the starry sky.
You are the poetry that I humbly try to translate into words.
The scent of your neck intoxicating my senses,
The bad girl tempting one to sin the sweetest sin of all.
The magic number of our passion, old Chinese symbol that finally
reveals its truth.
Sweet flirt and ***** thoughts,
Eyes and eyelashes,
The fear of my fears.
A forest baby doe scared and confused
in the jungle noise of animal screams,
The idol in my dreams
 
 
My thoughts are like butterflies landing on your *******, your neck, your back, fluttering up and settling on the bottom of your tattoo, crawling below…
the texture of your soft skin and the hairs on your legs standing on their end.  
 
You are the Flamenco music that I can’t listen to anymore, the guttural songs linking us to our primal ancestors, drums and clapping like the whole world applauding for you and me.
The love chart that tells it all.
 
 
The day you held my hand, in front of fifteen hundred people,
And the most beautiful scene,
alone in the cinema stall, touching an irresistible image imprinted in your mind.
 
Transparent lies that make me smile,
temptations away, the love that we seek where we can’t find it – sweet irony of life.
 
You are the punishment you beg for being a bad girl,
Your risks, masochistic game that makes you feel alive,
a life feeling like running fingers through hot coals.
 
Your unrestrained dialogue with your sub-conscious,
painful and rich,
open window into your soul for the magician to read it.
 
The power outside me and you that has connected loose threads of our hearts, the Yin and Yang clashing and meshing like two birds becoming one.
You, wild beast unafraid to devour yourself and your pray at the same time, fearless, insane, addictive.
 
The dream of holding hands. 
 
February 2, 2013

In a carnal fervour, my desire doth swell,
An inferno of passion, a tempestuous hell.
My heart a cauldron, ablaze with yearning,
My mind a labyrinth, ever churning.

A symphony of sensation, a crescendo of lust,
My senses awhirl, my body ******.
In a rapturous fervour, my senses alight,
With a longing unquenched, a hunger for delight.

My ***** ache with a pulsing need,
A carnal craving, my body doth plead.
A profligate yearning, an insatiable hunger,
A fervent desire, an insistent urging.

A tumult of emotion, a deluge of ecstasy,
A tempest of sensation, a maelstrom of bliss.
A whirlwind of passion, a conflagration of lust,
My heart aflame, forever to combust.

So let us succumb, to this frenzied desire,
And bask in the warmth of this passionate fire.
For in the realm of love, there is no higher law,
Than to yield to the tempest, and let passion be the awe.

Breathe in—
Smell dark iron; it’s fresh.
Give in—
To the call of the flesh.

Awaken—
This feeling inside me – it’s primal.
The craving, the lust – it is carnal.

Forsaken—
The reason, all thought – elude me.
The salt and the sweet – allure me.

Flow’s thick—
pure.
I seek—
you.

Your love is my vice
Thirsting for your soft caress
Carnal addiction

bored
restless
drugged with thoughts
overwhelmed by contradictions
there's no peace for me
spiritually entangled
from your distance
looking for an ancestral relief
or maybe .. carnal?