#seduction
Out of the blue,
an out going tide
drew him out
from darkness
An uncommon
warmth cradled
a loathed emptiness,
like heat lightning,
finally striking twice
Was it another
stale dream?
A spell cast
from another
unreachable
distant shore?
The water deepened,
warmth thickened,
as the scent
of a burning ember
waft pungently nearby
The enchanting allure
of a mysterious shadow’s
whisper beckoned —
pulling him by
the heartstrings
she lay bare
It had been so long —
never looking back,
never seeing beyond
the sudden silence heard…
4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 8:21 PM UTC
My hips side to side sway,
so let me devour you like night does day.
I don't care for a perfect bouquet;
I just want your body – a perfect buffet.
So what if it's cliche?
You're a perfect piece of prey.
Is love what you think I'm trying to convey?
Vulnerability is child's play.
If you fall for me, I'll make your heart decay.
May 20
May 20, 2026 at 10:56 PM UTC
If I were to sell my soul
you’d forget your purchase
I mean, what’s the price of living ******
when nothing is sacred
Blood on my teeth when I smile
I say I’m enjoying it
but you can’t tell if it’s sincere
May 2
May 2, 2026 at 7:52 PM UTC
I wasn't looking to fall in love but you had other plans for me You showed me more than enough I fell under your spell completely At first I thought it was just a phase your sweetness and smiles lit a spark but then slowly lifted the haze and you ignited embers in my heart Now a wildfire burning out of control I'm overcome by the five alarm fire Your love has swallowed me whole and I'm consumed with desire Keep fanning the flames, light me up I want to walk through the hot coals Until I'm totally ablaze in your love and I have lost all self-control
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 5:33 PM UTC
You keep calling,
With that voice,
The one I use,
When I want a twist.
Into whatever is happening,
Me and you,
Her and him,
Toxicity and whatever this love is.
The close pull,
Long pauses,
In between moments,
The unseriousness into what we are.
The mixture we dont hate,
Poison,
Made for both of us,
I introduced......you stayed.
Now you keep feeling,
A past,
You aren't sure you want,
You want that intoxicating pull.
Like an attachment,
You keep me close,
More of whatever I am,
Like you cant live without me.
You want nothing,
To do with me,
You say that,
While getting undressed.
A little bit of this and that,
Always,
Between me and you,
Maybe one day we will change.
By:Jn
Mar 23
Mar 23, 2026 at 11:27 AM UTC
Black silk eyes,
I drown willingly.
I kneel in fire,
I answer devotion.
I burn slow.
I am drawn in
Like iron to fire ,
The world warns me.
With chaos and calm inside,
I adore those eyes.
Feb 19
Feb 19, 2026 at 5:25 AM UTC
[They'll never understand,
So come dance with me.
Submit to the trance,
With an open hand]
♥️
Your value is here,
Just - let yourself hear.
The thoughts veneered;
Pleasant echoes of fear.
A ringing melody,
Of unsound superiority.
Our decree in both,
Of Red likeness unknown.
🌹
Caretaker of the innocent,
Wishing to ascend.
In a targeted desire;
One blazing fire.
🌹
I've already touched you,
Farther than the hearts roots.
Yet, you hide me - ashamed,
To appear more tame.
I expect more,
From a heart torn.
Between humilty,
And nobility.
To keep betrayals,
Dragged behind your tail.
- I know you already,
Far too clearly...
Just to keep as strangers,
avoiding their danger.
You slipped again,
Through all I've said...
♥️
-
♦️
Is the high ground worth it?
I don't know yet.
But... I won't listen;
Your words are mispoken.
We were Red before,
Not anymore.
Stop trying to persuade,
with a smile of fangs.
Directed toward my heart,
to tear me apart.
Soft hands grasping,
a soul still gasping.
And breaths fading quickly,
at an effort to flee.
Words drowning in honey,
a tender adversity.
Made to sound so easy;
embracing you is exciting.
Stop staring like that
- with soft gentle pants...
♦️
No one understands like her...
She even knows when to purr.
Maybe this trance isn't so bad,
If I let her take my hand...
🩸🩸
🩸
Dec 31, 2025
Dec 31, 2025 at 3:34 AM UTC
He said, “It’s just a night out with the fellas.”
She smiled, knowing that line too well.
Perfume kissed his collar before she could
and temptation clocked in early.
She wasn’t stupid.
She’d seen how his eyes lingered too long
on tight dresses and slow movements.
But tonight, she didn’t care.
She had her own kind of fire.
At the lounge, lights were low,
bodies glowed under crimson haze.
She entered like sin with heels clicking time,
hips slow as confession, eyes heavy with invitation.
He froze.
Her presence cut through the smoke like truth.
Leather on legs, silk hugging curves like whispered secrets
she was every fantasy he’d ever buried under vows and restraint.
“Dance with me,” she said, voice dripping like honey over ice.
He hesitated. “I’m married.”
She smiled, wicked and soft. “So am I.”
The air thickened.
No music, no talk...just pulse and breathing.
She pressed against him, warmth meeting want,
her perfume a spell he couldn’t unlearn.
“Ever wonder what it feels like,” she whispered,
“to break the rules… just once?”
His throat tightened,
but his hands
they betrayed him first.
Fingers traced her spine like a map to sin.
He felt her shiver,
and it was over.
Their bodies spoke the language lips were too afraid to form.
In that corner,
under dim light and smoky jazz,
he tasted the kind of freedom that ruins men.
A Hall Pass to forbidden pleasure
signed by desire, sealed in sweat.
Her laugh was soft, dangerous,
the kind that makes promises and breaks souls.
“You think you’re the first?” she said,
pressing her mouth to his ear.
“Every man wants to be chosen.
But only some are brave enough to admit it.”
He looked at her like she was both heaven and hell.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
She smiled, slow. “Nothing permanent. Just truth.”
Truth came in waves.
In the hotel mirror, in tangled sheets,
in the moan that sounded like regret.
Every touch was confession,
every kiss an unspoken sin.
Morning came cruel,
sunlight slicing through reality.
The world outside didn’t care about their night of maybes.
He watched her slip into her dress,
each movement deliberate, a slow goodbye.
“Was it worth it?” she asked, eyes soft now, not cruel.
He didn’t answer.
Because worth was too small a word
for what he’d just lost and found.
She leaned in, lips grazing his jaw.
“Tell her you love her,” she whispered.
“And mean it this time.”
Then she left...no name, no number,
just the ghost of her scent and a truth he couldn’t unfeel.
Because a Hall Pass isn’t permission.
It’s exposure.
It shows you what you crave,
what you’re missing,
and what you’ll risk just to feel alive.
He went home that night,
eyes open for the first time in years.
He kissed his wife like it was both an apology and a promise.
Because sometimes, it takes losing your morals
to rediscover your meaning.
And she?
She walked into another night,
another dance floor,
another man searching for escape.
Both knowing the same truth
Pleasure is power,
But peace…
peace is priceless.
Hall Pass, Part II — “Confessions of Her”
He thought she was the sin.
But really…
She was the silence that men ran to
when the noise of their lives got too loud.
She wasn’t the villain.
She was the escape.
Soft sheets, low lights,
and a heartbeat that didn’t ask questions.
See, she learned early
love ain’t loyal,
and forever has an expiration date.
So she stopped believing in promises,
and started collecting moments instead.
Every man had a story.
Every one came searching for something
a thrill, a touch,
a reminder that they still mattered.
And she gave it to them.
Not because she wanted their hearts—
but because she wanted control.
Power was her foreplay.
Dominance dressed in lace and whispers.
She could make a man forget his world
with just one look.
Her eyes
dark like midnight secrets.
Her voice
low, smooth, dripping temptation like honey and sin.
She knew what they wanted before they did.
She read body language like scripture,
every sigh a confession,
every tremor a prayer.
But deep down,
beneath the perfume, the heels, the lies
was a woman once broken.
A man had promised her always once.
And when always ended too soon,
she built her own altar out of desire.
She learned to use lust like armor,
*** like salvation,
and touch like a weapon.
So when he said, “I’m married,”
she didn’t flinch.
She smiled.
Because she knew he’d already crossed the line
long before she ever said hello.
That night,
when he touched her like he was both sorry and starving,
she felt his guilt melt into hunger.
And for a moment,
she felt powerful again.
Wanted.
Worshiped.
Alive.
But in the quiet after,
when the music faded
and only breathing filled the room,
she felt that ache
the one that never leaves.
Because power fades,
and pleasure never stays.
And no matter how many bodies she conquers,
she still wakes up alone.
She looked at his sleeping face
so peaceful, so naive.
Men always looked holy after sinning.
Maybe that’s why she kept coming back
to remind herself that even saints fall.
As dawn spilled gold across the sheets,
she slipped out of bed,
leaving him tangled in confusion and release.
Her reflection caught her in the mirror
red lips, tired eyes,
a goddess built from chaos.
She smirked.
“Another man taught a lesson,” she whispered.
But the truth?
She was teaching herself
how to feel again.
How to believe that maybe, one day,
she wouldn’t need the Hall Pass either.
Hall Pass, Part III — “Reunion”
Months passed.
Different seasons, same ache.
He told himself it was over
a one-night storm,
a memory folded deep in guilt.
But fate has a wicked sense of humor.
He saw her again,
across a crowded art gala downtown.
Red dress.
Same perfume.
That slow smile that made logic tremble.
The world faded around her.
For a second, the air forgot to move.
He didn’t know if it was desire or déjà vu
but his chest burned like old fire catching wind.
She noticed him too.
Didn’t flinch. Didn’t hide.
Just tilted her glass toward him,
as if to say, “Still thinking about me?”
When their eyes met,
it wasn’t lust at first.
It was truth
raw, heavy, unfinished.
He walked over,
heart beating through his suit jacket.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said.
“You never do,” she replied.
Her voice still tasted like midnight.
They stood close,
conversation brushing skin like silk.
Every word had weight,
every silence hummed with the ghost of that night.
“I’ve changed,” he said quietly.
“Then prove it,” she whispered.
Her challenge wasn’t about touch this time.
It was about control
who they were now,
what they’d learned about wanting what isn’t theirs.
Music swelled, lights dimmed.
They moved together...slow, deliberate.
Her fingertips traced his palm;
his breath caught but he didn’t pull away.
Not out of weakness...out of remembering.
She leaned close enough for him to feel the heat of her words.
“I don’t need your ring,” she said.
“I just need to know you finally see her.”
He nodded. “I do.”
And for once, he meant it.
That was her closure.
That was his forgiveness.
The song ended.
They didn’t kiss.
They didn’t need to.
The space between them said everything
lust burned away, leaving truth glowing in the ashes.
She turned to leave, red dress flickering under the light,
a vision walking out of his past.
He watched her go
not with hunger this time,
but with understanding.
Sometimes a Hall Pass isn’t an invitation.
It’s a lesson.
A reminder that pleasure fades,
but the people we hurt stay real.
He went home lighter.
She disappeared into the night,
finally free from needing to be wanted.
And somewhere between desire and redemption,
both of them learned
some sins don’t need repeating
to be remembered.
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 5:00 PM UTC
Getting dressed...fresh to death.
The kind of fresh that makes mirrors blush.
Silk brushing against skin like a whisper with intentions,
hair laid, edges sharp enough to slice through envy.
The glow? Untouchable.
Makeup painted like armor
warrior gloss, confidence contour.
The heels go on slow, deliberate
every inch of height a declaration,
every click on the floor, a countdown.
They hug my calves tight
structure and seduction intertwined,
reminding me that tonight,
I am both art and danger.
The night hums outside my window,
bass lines sneaking through the glass
like promises waiting to be kept.
City lights shimmer like they know my name.
It’s the weekend
and that means rules dissolve,
boundaries blur,
and fantasies step out to play.
I step in
club lights kissing skin like temptation’s prayer.
Bodies move, slow and hungry,
the air thick with perfume and possibility.
The DJ drops a beat so heavy
it makes hearts forget their purpose.
Strippers glide on stage
curves dipped in gold and gravity,
confidence dripping like honey down their thighs.
They dance like freedom never needed permission,
like pleasure is a right, not a request.
Money rains
soft paper falling like confessions in a confessional,
and I sip champagne like it’s sin reborn.
Eyes find me... his, hers, theirs.
Your man watching like he forgot who he came with.
His girl watching too...curious,
tasting rebellion behind her smile.
I feel them both in the rhythm
heat and hunger circling,
energy electric enough to burn.
He wants me.
She wants the feeling I carry
that no-holds-barred power,
that “I own the night” aura.
And maybe, just maybe,
I’ll take him and teach her
show them how to surrender to the pulse,
how to be free when the lights hit just right.
No shame here.
Just exploration
fingertips on glass, sweat on the floor,
and laughter that tastes like courage.
Tonight, I’m not explaining myself.
I’m not dimming my shine.
I’m not waiting for approval.
This is my altar
music my god,
body my prayer.
The strippers move like poetry written in hips,
like gravity only exists when they allow it.
We throw money, but what we’re really offering
is awe...devotion ...envy.
Because every spin, every split, every smile
is a reminder that power can be soft,
that seduction is an art form,
that confidence is the real tease.
Popping bottles like baptisms
liquid light spilling over laughter,
diamonds on wrists catching the strobes like secrets.
The air hums with “don’t stop.”
And I don’t.
Not tonight.
I dance with no past,
kiss the moment on its mouth.
Every beat is a dare,
every glance an invitation.
The night stretches wide open
filled with glitter, heat, and hands that understand rhythm better than reason.
No guilt. No hesitation.
Just bodies writing stories the daylight will never know.
By sunrise,
we’re legends with smudged lipstick and tired smiles,
souls still glowing from the fire we made of the night.
Because the weekend isn’t a break
it’s a rebirth.
And me?
I’m the spark.
The sin.
The soft confession whispered through bass lines.
I am the weekend...
and the weekend always win.
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 12:23 AM UTC
Our eyes lock in one simple glance.
You try to turn away but can't.
My voodoo charms seductively enchant.
I've got you in a magical trance, trance, trance.
I hypnotize you with deep dark eyes.
My sorcery takes us back in time through multiple past lives.
We trace back to battles in Atlantis,
cosmic galaxies and the belt of Orion.
I'm Aphrodite.
You're Poseidon.
My voodoo charms seductively enchant.
I've got you in a magical trance, trance, trance.
This familiar "knowing you" without knowing you
feels like home.
You don't understand why
you just "know."
A thinly veiled force field
pushing us towards each other.
There's no turning back now.
Mesmerism is taking you under.
My voodoo charms seductively enchant.
I've got you in a trance, trance, trance.
Flashbacks to ancient times.
Perhaps you were my husband; I was your wife.
We lead tribes from faraway lands.
Strong and powerful.
I'm your woman and you're my man.
My voodoo charms seductively enchant.
I've got you in a magical trance, trance, trance.
You want to kiss my neck, my lips, my essence
as if trying something new.
Don't be hesitant with my charms.
I've conjured you.
You inhale my scent, spicy and sweet.
Notes of Vanilla, Jasmine and warm Patchouli
You take a deep breath
and feel intoxicated by my aroma.
Let's live today like there's no more tomorrow.
My voodoo charms seductively enchant.
I've got you in a magical trance, trance, trance.
Lifetimes of passion
exchanged in this glance.
Let's sneak away.
Initiate a forbidden romance.
A perfect blend of energies.
Have I put a spell on you or have you put one on me?
Our auras dance in rhythm hypnotically.
I seductively enchant.
I've got you in a magical trance, trance, trance.
Oct 24, 2025
Oct 24, 2025 at 8:10 PM UTC
The sun dips low, setting the sky aflame,
Streaks of gold and crimson melt into each other,
Like passion spilling beyond its borders.
And there she stands
Framed by the horizon, a living masterpiece,
Her silhouette carved in light and longing.
The ocean hums softly behind her,
Waves curling like secret sighs,
While the wind carries whispers that belong only to twilight.
She moves slowly, deliberately,
As if every motion were choreographed by the setting sun.
Shadows cling to her curves like silk,
Sliding over hips that sway with quiet command,
Tracing the lines of a body both wild and soft.
Her shoulders glisten beneath the fading light,
A halo of warmth wrapping her in sinful grace.
The breeze teases her hair into soft rebellion,
Dark strands dancing against her neck,
Each twist and turn a private invitation.
Her outline is poetry
Verses written in flesh and silhouette,
Rhymes built from heat, horizon, and heartbeat.
She doesn’t rush. She knows the world will wait.
With every step she takes, the earth leans closer,
The sky blushes deeper,
And Im caught between reverence and hunger
One can only watch as she commands the dusk.
Her gaze meets mine through the fading light,
Eyes shadowed, yet burning with quiet fire.
No words pass between us; they aren’t needed.
Desire speaks louder in the language of stillness.
She lifts her hand, fingers extended
The light catches them like a spark before night.
As she walks closer, the shadows bend with her,
Stretching across the sand like worshippers at her feet.
The scent of salt and sun-soaked skin fills the air,
A mixture of innocence and temptation,
Of endings and beginnings all at once.
Her body stops inches away
Close enough for the heat between us to breathe,
Close enough for the light to outline every hidden promise.
The world around us holds its breath.
The sunset hangs suspended, refusing to fade,
As if even the heavens are captivated by her spell.
She leans in, slowly, deliberately,
The silhouette of her lips aligning with mine.
And when they finally meet,
It isn’t a kiss born of haste
It’s a collision of shadows and light,
A surrender to everything the day left unsaid.
In that moment,
She is the sunset bold, fleeting, unforgettable.
And I am the horizon
Ready to catch her, hold her,
And let the night write the rest of our story.
Oct 17, 2025
Oct 17, 2025 at 12:11 AM UTC
#
The assassin’s shadow lay prone on the rooftop,
a cut-out against the sky..
seen, but not seen,
because to look up
would mean breaking the spell of the herd.
The Mauser barked,
not of metal alone but of voices,
defending their defenses
with bullets made of shadow..
Fear dressed as Light,
cowardice crowned as virtue.
And all the while,
truth bled on the pavement,
not from weakness,
but because the many chose
silhouette over substance,
projection over sight;
safety over the one who dared to see.
#
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 8:26 AM UTC
Changing gear,
my mind is on cruise,
becoming clear,
as I start to muse,
about love and lust, *** and sinning,
I'm starting to grin
and I'm settling in
for a show that is just beginning.
Changing gear,
her dress on the floor,
becoming clear,
her skin shows more,
of lust and love, sinning and ***
She starts to smile,
and looking a while
at the poet who is lustfully hexed.
Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 6:26 AM UTC
~ 💋 ~
She speaks in silk,
moves like sin,
Draws grown men like moths within.
A kiss,
a sigh,
a flash of thigh
And just like that, they’re begging why.
She toys with hearts,
delights in screams,
Turns pride to dust,
and love to dreams.
No blood,
no blade,
just one slow lean…
And down it falls,
- the Velvet Guillotine -
~ 💋 ~
May 15, 2025
May 15, 2025 at 8:43 AM UTC
(A Symphony in the Air)
She passed
and the air forgot its name.
A trail of fire, wrapped in flame.
Not footsteps, no… she left a bloom,
a whispered spell, a haunting plume.
Jasmine bruised with midnight spice,
vanilla smoke and crushed device,
amber kissed by ancient lore,
and musk like sin behind a door.
It wasn’t scent, it was a hymn,
a chorus pouring from her skin.
Each note a memory, raw, refined,
a fingerprint the soul designed.
It danced on silk, it clung to bone,
it made the silence overgrown.
You smelled her once, now every room
aches for that ghost…
that perfume.
It wasn’t soft… it struck like wine,
first sweet, then heat, then serpentine.
It woke the dark, it stirred the bed,
it crowned the lips where words had fled.
Men forgot their vows that night.
Women wept with pure delight.
Time itself stood still to breathe
a scent like that will never leave.
It lives in coats, in creaking floors,
on letters slipped through velvet doors.
You lose her, yes - she slips too soon.
But you will always keep her perfume.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 11:39 PM UTC
The moon dripped silver on the pool,
Where lotus sighed and waters cooled;
The night was silk, the air was wine,
And she — a flame in wet moonshine.
Her anklets murmured on the stone,
Each step a kiss the earth had known;
Her bare feet slid through rippling light,
Each toe a whisper, soft and white.
She came — her saree clinging thin,
Each breath unveiling folds of sin;
The silk, once proud, now begged to fall,
From aching ******* that answered all.
The breeze, a thief with trembling hands,
Tugged loose her veil's modest bands;
It slipped — then caught upon her curve,
A sigh escaped the watching stars.
Her ******* half-bared, half-shamed, half-bold,
Shifted with breaths too sweet to hold;
Their trembling crowned with dusky tips,
That pressed like prayers against her slips.
Droplets clung to her shivering skin,
Mapped secret paths from breast to chin;
A single bead hung at her throat,
A kiss unsent, a lover’s note.
Her hair, a wet and breathing tide,
Clung heavy to her gleaming side;
It framed her navel’s secret gleam,
Where all the mortals forgot their dreams.
Her glance — suggestive, but knowing well,
The endless thirst her body spelled;
Her laughter, ripe with lush delight,
Promised both mercy — and the night.
Her saree slid, a lover's tease,
Falling lower with every breeze;
A shoulder bare, a trembling hip,
A gasp half-formed upon her lip.
She turned — the water kissed her thighs,
The moon lay broken in her eyes;
Each step a moan, each breath a song,
Each sigh a place where dreams belong.
The sages prayed to stone and sky,
But none could tear away their eye;
For in her sway, in flesh, in flame,
All scriptures crumbled, wept her name.
The sage, who carved his soul in prayer,
Felt every vow dissolve in air;
His beads fell silent from his hand,
Forgotten on the trembling land.
He rose — not saint, not god, but man,
Drawn helpless to her scented span;
Each step he took through the dreamy mist,
Was one more heaven he had missed.
Her smile, half-moon, half mortal sin,
Beckoned him closer, pulled him in;
Her saree trembled against her thighs,
As rivers burned in both their eyes.
The world spun slow — the stars withdrew,
As flesh remembered what was true;
In that one touch, that final sigh,
Even salvation learned to die.
She opened arms of mist and flame,
And called him softly by no name;
No heaven higher, no bond more sweet,
Than where her skin and his breath meet.
Susanta Pattnayak
Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025 at 9:54 AM UTC
Her prowling gaze strikes
Heart lungs brain electrified
Energy for miles
Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 11:10 PM UTC
Whispering sweet desires in tearing
giggling, we forget of we're laughing
tummy sweet button does taste so yummy,
How do these moments lead right up to now?
Tasting your lips, something ever lasting,
treats of your seduction to say the least,
fingers wander to love songs from singers
blasts from window won't shiver how heat lasts,
Lust come from sweetness and not the dry crust,
wetness from your lips, absolute sweetness,
Eye sweet locked with mine, until day I die,
dancing to the beat of serenity
Ghostly are these, where times were costly,
Precious was the girl, precociously
Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 8:05 PM UTC
Night,
cold, dark,
in Copenhagen.
Beer,
a friend,
a bar.
We talked about life,
broken loves,
and new seductions.
There were many **** women
in that place,
but none like her.
It wasn’t her body,
it wasn’t what she didn’t say,
she hadn’t even spoken to us.
It was what she radiated,
her gestures,
her gaze,
her harmony.
All the others, full of signals,
red lips,
high heels,
but you, just the simple waitress.
We didn’t know what was happening,
it was magnetism,
a universal energy,
something spiritual.
Maybe it was your presence,
sweet goddess,
disguised as a servant.
A goddess,
one we longed to worship.
You walked up to us,
"Another drink?" you asked.
That sweetness
was a dose of a drug
we craved more of.
He was charged with ecstasy,
an energy,
inviting you to talk,
but saying, I don’t need you.
An energy,
of here I am,
and this is who I am.
That passion,
of being herself,
of acceptance.
That night, I went home
without knowing what happened,
without knowing what had struck me.
What could have been,
was strange,
was magnetism.
What was it?
Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 1:23 PM UTC
She stands at the edge of the grove,
barefoot in the soft, damp earth.
The sky has darkened, an ink-stained veil,
and the air is heavy with whispers
of things not yet spoken.
He steps from the shadows,
the pomegranate cradled in his hand,
as if it were a heart still beating.
Its skin glints like polished blood,
each curve a promise she does not understand.
He smiles—not with his mouth, but his eyes,
the kind of smile that unravels secrets.
He holds out the fruit, the distance between them
as thin as a thread pulled taut.
“Try it,” he says. “It’s sweet as summer rain.”
She hesitates, her fingers trembling
above its smooth, red skin,
caught between the impulse to reach,
to know, to taste—and the warning,
some echo of a voice she barely remembers.
“Just a taste,” he breathes,
and his voice is the rustle of leaves,
the call of something deeper than words.
She presses her thumb into the fruit,
and it yields, a dark, red river
running down her wrist.
He watches as she lifts the seeds
to her mouth, her lips stained
in a shade she’s never worn before.
The burst of juice, sharp and sweet,
washes over her tongue—a flood, a fever.
And she feels it then, the shift—
the earth beneath her is no longer soft,
but hard and cold, like stone.
The taste of the pomegranate lingers,
the sweetness turning to ash,
something bitter lodged in her throat.
He steps closer, his hand on her cheek,
a gesture almost tender.
“You wanted this,” he says,
and she knows he’s right, though she cannot say why.
The grove is silent, the night deepening,
the stars like distant eyes watching.
She looks at him, and then at the empty husk
in her hand, the seeds scattered at her feet
like drops of blood on snow.
She does not speak.
There is nothing left to say.
Only the taste, the lingering memory
of sweetness, and the slow, heavy beat
of something lost.
Nov 17, 2024
Nov 17, 2024 at 11:22 PM UTC
conflict is a woman
I can’t stay faithful to.
She makes a home in my eyes
wrapping herself in the lies that
lay crumpled on silk sheets.
Truth over harmony is the poem
she hums to me
yet
I still run to sing melodies
in the other beds I’ve made.
Nov 2, 2024
Nov 2, 2024 at 10:40 PM UTC