I should never have let you taste ambrosia,
should never have given you sweet nectar.
I should never have given in and let you have your way.
Now that you've gotten a taste of freedom,
there is no way to stop you before it's too late.

Your mouth is wild;

teeth like jagged rocks,
cliffs that I must climb
to crawl inside

of you

the sea is senseless,
salt scattering
dreams

in segments

we must master
the waves if
we are

to swim

our survival dependent
on something deviant
an echo of

the past

we are all surfing
our secrets, serving
the part of us

that hides

your tongue as
temptation, Cyanine
spiked kisses

and I

in sync with
the ocean,
sailing blind

When you give someone or something up, it doesn't mean to put it/them on the proverbial shelf to look at every now and then when things get boring.

It doesn't mean you should keep them in the background of your life so you can wander out to them when there's nothing going on in the foreground.

There's nothing uncivil about removing people or things from your life.

I'm not going to give any more of my attention to certain people and all the vices of my past.

Holding onto a piece of them builds the bridge to bring them into my present, and I don't have time to be tempted or distracted from the things that matter to me the most.

If that's cruel, so be it. Some bridges are meant to be burned.

Only
          what you crave
     has the strength to
  tempt you.

I heard her calling out to me
tried to ignore her,
begged her to set me free
but her scent, her taste
kept calling to me
I ached so
for her to just let me be
but the lure, the pull
her enticing ways
kept gnawing and eating at me
for days
and finally I gave in to her call
and drank in her aroma, her scent
tasted the essence of her elixir from hell
and I sit here now
trying to tell
which way is up--
is the room spinning (or is it me?)
I should have insisted
she let me be,
but I'm weak and her taste and lure is strong--
I should have known better--
giving into brandy
has always been wrong...

Temptation guides your
drunken exploration
of my silk surface;
as eager fingertips
graze my thighs
and hips.
Like a river,
I unfold
for your thirsty lips;
as your craving grows
to drink up every bit.
I’m a fine wine that
stains your kiss.
A loving reminder
you wear with
coffee and breakfast.

Faintest of whispers dance with the subconscious.
Invisible strings manipulate limbs.
They believe they act on their own...

The sweetest gift is presented in silk. Bursting with rose-tinted malice.

The gift received a thousand times -
Welcomed with open arms.

Pleasing to every conceivable sense,
A shroud silently falls again.

The mistake will be realised, but not for a time.
Not simply a trick of the mind.

This powerful thing! A beautiful King.
Soon,
will meet his demise.


© Jordan Costigan.