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27.7k · Dec 2018
strong tough steady woman
ghost queen Dec 2018
you are the center, the sun in the sky
warming, lighting, guiding those below

you are the core, the hub in the wheel
forming, maintaining, strengthening the circle

you are the earth, the bedrock beneath
supporting, stabilizing, reinforcing our lives

you are the reason for our being, our births, our lives
nurturing, nourishing, caring for our hopes, our dreams

you gather, sort the fruits, roots harvested from the land
tending, stoking, reviving embers smothering in the hearth

your strength transcends your body, your mind, your heart
from the first child, to the last, your love, affection is forever

you cradle, caress, kiss, comforting the child
reassuring, protecting, shooing monsters away

you are the strong, tough, steady woman in our lives
fierceness of a lioness, tender as a kitten, loving her child
Thank you Mom, for the sacrifices, you made for me.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3419782/tough-chick/
ghost queen Feb 2019
you are may
i am december
kisses exchanged
during the bluing hour
child like
staring at you
in wonder and amazement
frosting night
falling snow
flakes in your auburn hair
i walk you home
in the cold frigid air
holding your hand
dreaming of you

you are rare
a beacon
a lighthouse
in a storm
in my daydreams
you are the pixie, the fairy inspiring me  
at night
you are the siren, i surrender to

a trifecta of youth, beauty, personality
you are refreshingly young
spring in my wintered life
preternaturally beautiful
perfection come to life
your femininity bewitching  
your youth intoxicating
your mannerism seducing
i would do anything for you

oozing sensuality
innocences
of a woman on the cusp
you hunger for sophistication
to be worldly-wise
seeking passage guidance
from an experienced traveller
the trade, the deal, is timeless
refined by evolution  

i am humbled
to have been chosen
the ultimate champion
of your ****** selection
in turn, you are my trophy
the spoils
of a never ending war

i know our time is short
the span of a bloom
a season at most
i know the outcome
seen the devastation
the problem is
we think we have time
https://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/24/arts/design/24wilson.html
12.0k · Oct 2018
Love is a Lie
ghost queen Oct 2018
I loved you
I hate you
I cherished you
I despise you

I believed you
I doubt you
I trusted you
I fear you

We laughed
I cry
We whispered
I shout

We bonded
I grieve
We lived the lie
I haunt the ruins
ghost queen Apr 2019
It was starting to snow as I entered Pere Lachaise cemetery. The few that had ventured in, were streaming out, as daylight faded, fast giving way to twilight, on this 1st of February night. I had 30 minutes of daylight left, to take the shots that I’d planned for all year.

I knew where I was going, having visited the cemetery in the summer, to scout locations for this moment. I walked up l’Avenue Principale towards Le Monument aux Morts and took the first right on l’Avenue des Puits. My pace quickened, not wanting to waste a single second, of the dying light.

I crossed path with the the last stragglers, most likely having paid homage to Chopin or Morrison. I was entering the oldest and most forested area of the cemetery. It sent a chill up my spine, not because of the cold February air, but because of the surreality of what was in front of me, a cobble stone path, lined with old trees, surrounded by an ocean of tombs, fading into the white and gray of a snowy afternoon.

I arrived at my location, the tomb of Heloise and Abelard. I set down my tripod and camera bag. I stopped to take it in. It was eerily beautiful, the snow slowly falling, lightly covering the tomb, the flowers, the love letters, laying around the plinth.

I was surprised at the number of single roses and love letters that were strewn in the yard, between the wrought iron fence, and the tomb. Even during the dead of winter, young women pilgrimaged to the tomb, leaving letters and prayers, hoping their love will last forever, in life and in death. Sadness overwhelmed me, as I felt the longing and pain of their and my,  unrequited loves.

I pulled out my camera, turned it on, double checking the battery indicator and exposure. I put the viewfinder to my eye, slowly pressed the shutter till I heard a beep, as the auto focus sharpened the view and my world became crystal clear. I zoomed in and out, composing my shot. I was too close for my lens. I picked up my tripod, turned around, and surveyed my work area.

I moved up the path, three tombs over, next to an old wide trunked chestnut tree, set my tripod and bag down, and recomposed my shot. The snowfall had intensified, to a heavy flurry. The snowflakes were thicker, fluffier, slowly drifting down like dandelion seeds. I was swimming in an ocean of white magical specks. Everything around me was dusted in ******, pure white powder.

I unfolded my tripod, mounted the camera to the head, and verified it was securely attached. I zoomed in and out till I composed my shot, stepping down the aperture and up the speed, till I achieved the dark, moody, feel I wanted. I pressed the shutter and captured the shot.

I was looking through the viewfinder when a woman stepped into my shot. For a split second, I was angry, then confused, then intrigued. I looked up, stepped back from my camera, to see and understand what was unfolding before me.

She was wearing a full-length white Lynx fur coat and cap, black leather gloves and boots. She was stunning, breathtaking. Was I hallucinating? Was she real? She hadn’t seen me, as I was behind her, catty corner, partially hidden by the chestnut tree.


She was holding something. I couldn’t quite see. I looked through the viewfinder, zoomed in on her. She held a single long stemmed blue rose in her left hand.  Instinctively, I pressed the shutter, captured the shot, the photo, the image, of this unworldly scene.

It was late, almost dark. What was she doing here? Was she praying, why, to whom, Heloise, Abelard, or both? She moved up to and placed her right hand on the protective wrought iron fence. I took a shot, then another. Then with her left hand, she gently threw the blue rose, time slowed, I pressed the shutter, never letting go, as the flower arched in the air and landed perfectly, on the plinth, at Heloise's side.

I released the shutter, still looking through the viewfinder. She placed her left hand on the wrought iron fence, bowed her head, just stood there, in the darkness, in the snowfall.

She pulled her right hand away from the wrought iron fence and wiped her eyes. Was she crying?

She slowly turned around. I pressed the shutter, held it down, for a continuous shot. I saw her face, her raven black hair, her incandescent blue eyes. Like a cannonball hitting me in the chest, I realized and recognized who she was. It was her, the woman from the metro.

She looked up, turned her head, and looked directly at me. I zoomed in, framed her face, continuously pressing the shutter. Her face expressionless, her eyes aglow. Had she seen me? I don’t know. She took a step, turned her head, and walked back up the cobble stone path, and faded into the night, into the falling snow.
ghost queen Mar 2019
i am tired of fighting, i am too old, i’ve seen too much

i am throwing down my weapon, i surrender, **** me if you must have blood

i don’t care anymore, i don’t remember what i am fighting for, i just want to go home.

put this war behind me, live to love, not to ****, not to die, for what purpose, for what god.

who will commemorate our battles, and those who have died just yesterday

who will remember our names, aspiration, dreams once we are dead

we are disposable, born to ****, then die, who cares, why care, we served your purpose

we are the pawns, expected to die for the greater good that we can not have

look at your lives, was it worth it, how do you honor Them, those who died, so you can live
ghost queen Mar 2019
The train slowed as it pulled into la Gare de l’Est, the cars bumping and wheels grinding as it came to a stop. It was late. I’d have to move fast to catch the last metro home. I didn’t have the energy, I was tired, cold and hungry, which made me grumpy.

I slung my satchel around my chest, grabbed my carry-on, and made my way to the exit. As I neared the door, I could feel the cold January air flooding into the car. I tightened my coat around me as I stepped down the stairs onto the quay, carry-on in my right hand.

Looking for the nearest exit, I turned left without looking and ran full on into woman. Our bodies collided, time slowed, as we compressed into each other. Her hair flowed into my face like an ocean wave. I could smell her hair, her scent, her femininity. She squealed in surprised, her voice full of youth and nubility.  

The world rushed back into real time and I saw her. My eyes opened wide in awe and disbelief that a woman could be so beautiful. I remember her eyes, supernaturally blue, sapphire blue, as if they glowed from a power within; her skin, white, milky, alabaster, as if she were a statue come to life; her hair, black, glossy, like the feathers of a witch’s raven.

Our eyes locked. Her angry gaze cut through me. I felt exposed and in danger. I looked down and apologized. “Excusez-moi mademoiselle,” I said, putting my right hand to my heart and bowing slightly as if addressing a queen.

I looked back up. Our eyes meet. She had assessed me in the blink of her eyes. She regained her composure, her body relaxed, she touched my arm, and said, “excusez-moi, I was not looking where I was going,” which I sensed was untrue.

I stepped aside. She passed, turned her head, looked me dead in the eyes, gave me a slight smile, and disappeared into the stream of the exiting crowd.

I was perplexed and confused. I’d never had that sort of exchange with a woman before. I didn’t know what to make of it. Was it good, bad, or somewhere in between?

The crowd had thinned. I started walking toward the metro station, looking for #4 Port d’ Orleans, increasing my pace before I missed the last metro home. I followed the signs, and descended the stairs to the quay. There were a few people and groups, up and down the quay, quietly waiting. I leaned on a large concrete pillar, too tired to pay attention to my surroundings, waiting for the train, smelling the air filled with exhaust from electric motors. I could hear the hum of the approaching train. In an instant it was in front of me, slowing down, coming to a stop, the doors hissing open.

I waited a bit, for the groups to board the train. Tired and on auto-pilot, I leaned down, picked up my carry-on, boarded, and sat down on a folding seat by the door, putting my carry-on between my legs.

The train slowly accelerated, humming, rocking, back and forth melodically. I looked up out of curiosity to see who else was on the last train, and I saw her, sitting on the first bench catty-corner, facing towards me. Surprised and caught off guard, that I would ever see her again, I  immediately looked down, not wanting to be caught staring, looking at her from the corner of my eyes.

I couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. Preternaturally beautiful, as if she wasn’t one of us, somehow not human. She was reading a Kindle, iPods in her ears. Her dress was Parisienne, black on black, the only color, the blue in her eyes, and the blood red of her lips.

She oozed sensuality, sophistication, and confidence. How could that be for a woman so young, a woman in her early 20s?

She read quiescently, only her thumb moving, ever so slightly, as she page forward through her Kindle. Her eyes never looked up, not even to see who new entered the car, when stopped at new stations.

I would look up, occasionally, to glimpse at her. She was fascinating to me, not only because of her beauty, but from her vibe. I couldn’t explain it, couldn’t figure it out. Why was I so drawn to her, like a moth to flame?

The train pulled into to Ile-de-la-Cite, rapidly slowing down, passengers counter balancing so as not to fall over. The doors hissed open. In the corner of my eyes, I saw her stand up and start walking up the aisle towards the doors, towards me. I raised my head slowly, our eyes met, locked, time stopped. She smiled, subtly, but enough for me to see. Her eyes, gentle, tender, inviting. I smiled, a slight smile back, my eyes saying everything she wanted to hear.

She turned and exited the train. I stared at her, my mouth open in amazement. The klaxon sounded, the door started closing. Panic surged up within me, as I feared I would never see her again. I bolted up from my seat, headed towards the door, abandoning all behind me. The doors slammed shut with thud, I pulled down on the handle, they were locked.

The train started to move, I looked at her. She was looking back. Our eyes locked, as the trained sped off into the darkness of the night.
6.9k · Oct 2018
What I Love About You
ghost queen Oct 2018
Our first date at Rise
Holding your hand at the Firehouse Theater
Eating bagels you brought back from Montreal
Having lunch at Salata
Going to the Arboretum
The way you peeked out children’s house
Cuddling on the couch
Watching Game of Thrones
When you fell asleep in my arms
Drinking Amaretto Sours
When you would be silly
The sound of your voice
The maraschino cherry stem  you tied with your tongue
The Forget Me Not Flower Kit you gave me
Exchanging texts
The sound of incoming WhatsApp messages
Diner at Howard Wangs
You wearing bunny ears during Easter
36-28-41
When you posed for me
Your blues eyes looking up at me
Seeing your smile
Touching your lips
The way you smell
The secrets you would tell
Showing how you care
Hugging me tight
Letting me take care of you
When you cook Arepas
The gluten free Clafouti
The time you had the flu
Wearing Calvin Klein underwater
Your dainty feet  
Your goddess like figure
Your cute accent
Typing in the door bell code
Hearing you answer
The emoji of puppy heart kitten

Knowing you are my Bijou
Calling you Minou
5.8k · Nov 2019
list of anxieties
ghost queen Nov 2019
You ask why I am anxious, why i am depressed, let me list for you the reasons why:

Global warming
Melting glaciers
Heatwaves
Polar vertices
Category 6 hurricanes
F5 Tornadoes
Droughts
Desertification
Floods
Wild fires
Snowless winters
Ice free arctic
Antarctic ice shelf collapse
Greenland glacier melting
Perma forst thawing

Ocean warming
Ocean acidification
Coral bleaching
Sea level rising
Coastal erosion
Over fishing
Fisheries collapse
Plankton extinction
Fertilizer run offs
Chemical pollution
Raw sewage dumping
Red algae blooms
Vibrio explosions

Ozone layer depletion
Lack of fresh potable water
Acid rain
Top soil depletion
Dead soil
Deforestation
Banana palm tree cultivation
Evasive species
Overpopulation
Urban sprawl
Insect apocalypse
Animal extinction
Lower biodiversity
Bird apocalypse
Bee apocalypse
Bat apocalypse
Amphibian apocalypse

Aging nuclear power plants
Superfund sites
Radioactive contamination
Three mile island, Chernobyl, Fukushima
Endocrine disrupters
PBAs
Autism
***** count collapse
Effeminization of men

Noise pollution
Light pollution
Chronic stress
Diabetes
Metabolic diseases
Over eating
Obesity

Drug resistances
New and emerging diseases
Epidemics pandemics
Swine and bird flu
Genetic modification
Biotech tech
nano tech
Crispr
DNA
genetic testing
Designer babies
Aging population
Health care rising
Unaffordable medications
Uninsured
Medicare of all
Medical bankruptcy
Social security bankruptcy

Rise of terrorism
Rise of extremism
Far right
Alt right
Lack of education
Masculine identity crisis
Emasculation of men
Decline of boys
Rise of girls

Increasing depression and anxiety
Increase anxiety depression among young girls
Lack of human connection
Social isolation
Social awkwardness
Snowflake generation
Disintegration of the family
Suicides
Social media addiction
**** addiction
Drug addiction
Alcohol addiction

Lack of equality
Political corruption
Kleptocracy
Corporatocracy
Plutocracy
Oligarchy
New American aristocracy
Too big to fail
Privatize profits, socialize losses
Decline of democracy
Fascism
Terrorism
Religious extremism
Religious tension
Political divisiveness
National unity
Second American civil war
Helplessness of the common man

Big data
Data protection
Algorithms
Internet tracking
Lost of privacy
Artificial intelligence
Singularity
AI white collar job lost
AI automation
AI back office
Autonomous AI
5G supremacy
Quantum computer supremacy
Virtual reality
Augmented reality
Cybernetics
Chronophobia
Outsourcing
Off shoring
On shoring

Over education
Under employment
Skills gap
3rd world immigration
La reconquista
Cultural dilution
Status quo
Declining economies
Housing crisis
Housing cost
Homelessness
Illiteracy
Hunger
Unemployment
Full employment
Racism
Intolerance
Race relationships
Increasing crime
Student loans
Credit card debt
High mortgages
7 year car loans
Inverse yield curve
52 week high

Wars
Military interventions
Social uprisings
Dwindling resources
Resources conflicts
Rare earth metals
Depletion of helium
Peak oil
Fracking
Water wars
Climate refugees
A list of worries people face today that is causing anxiety and depression
ghost queen Mar 2019
Animals have an intuition about danger. Men have “gut feelings.”  I should have listened to mine.  The first time I saw her, I knew she was dangerous.  I could feel it, and it excited me.  She was a predator, a tigress, a seductress on the hunt, a wild, untamable savage woman who destroyed men.  She would destroy me.  I saw it in her eyes the first time I saw her.  She was walking by with her girlfriends, laughing and giggling. She looked up, caught my gaze, and my world suddenly froze. A thousand feelings were expressed in the blink of her eyes.  She told me I was prey.  She told me I would die. She smiled, releasing my gaze.  My world rushed back into focus with the abrupt harshness of a slap in the face.  I was sweating. I was afraid. I was excited as I  watched her disappear into the crowd. That was the first time I saw her. How could I forget.
5.5k · Oct 2018
moon flower
ghost queen Oct 2018
enigmatic, exotic
alone, deep in the jungle
fierce, afraid
passion, love in her eyes

to hold her, is to lose her
to have her, is to **** her
ephemeral, a ghost
a dream, a fantasy
never to be had
Written to accompany photos of a flower https://flic.kr/s/aHsmiTGp93
4.9k · Jan 2019
forgive me Cassandra
ghost queen Jan 2019
there is hope
like a rising sun
on a distance horizon
lighting up the morning sky
pushing the darkness aside
melting the clouds away

the rays warm my face
coaxing a smile
squinting my eyes
i take a breath, savoring being alive

the sky is blueing deeper, clearer
morning haze is lifting, disappearing
life is awakening, stirring, moving
the beauty is overwhelming, awe inspiring

i see anew, with an indigo eye
things i’d sensed but never knew
i feel too deep, intuit too much
beheld as a curse, repressed, suppressed

i burned, screamed, fell into ashes
my soul lay fallow, quiet, healing, waiting
resurrecting from cold dark depths
heart beating, eyes opening, arms reaching

vindication from self doubt
forgive me Cassandra, Cairn, Mother
i weep, openly, proudly, for your grace
it is the 9th and final gift
#552-2019.03.11
indigo flower photos https://flic.kr/s/aHskLRTg2B
3.1k · Jan 2019
kiss of the amaryllis
ghost queen Jan 2019
i miss you
such much, it hurts
i think about you, incessantly
the pain, is overwhelming
the grief unbearable

i remember you
in every corner of my life
last sight at night
first though at dawn

over breakfast, i would marvel at your beauty
i would savor your scent
my heart would quicken
as you would lean over and kiss my lips

i remember the excitement, feeling your lips press against mine
ever so soft, moist, and sweet
i would savor our kisses, touching lips to lips
softly caressing, sliding mine against yours, till you pulled back and smiled

your kisses were delicate, tender, like the wet petal of an amaryllis
firm, soft, nubile
your youth and beauty were exquisite, overwhelming
the source of light and life in a dark forest

why were you taken from me
how can it be, our love ends in tragedy
it is not fair
i don’t understand
why is Persephone punishing me

i shall never forget our intimacy
i will cry eternally
now that you are gone
and haunt my days
photos of Amaryllis on Flickr
In Life: https://flic.kr/s/aHsmzcRuE1
#189
ghost queen Jul 2019
I turned the corner, entering the Italian sculpture collection at Le Louvre, delighting in the smells and quiet sounds of the museum. I walked slowly down the creaking wood floored corridor, ignoring the Dirce, the Nymph and the Scorpion, till I came to Antonio Canova’s Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.

I gazed at it lazily, longingly, savoring its sensuality, love, and tenderness. It was beautiful, beyond belief, exquisite. It evoked so many emotions, to the point of being overwhelming. I stared at it, losing myself, in time and reverie, wishing I could love and be loved with such intensity.

“It’s beautiful, “I heard a feminine whisper in my ear. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my neck. “Yes,” I replied, slowly, instinctively, coming out of my trance, and turning towards the voice.

Our eyes met, locked, I couldn’t look away, as if bewitched, her incandescent blue eyes fathomless, tender, worldly, looking, seeing deep into my soul. I could feel her in me, like a new born kitten exploring every nook and cranny. It was slightly unnerving, knowing she could wander, at will, unfettered, and yet calming, even comforting.

As I regained my sense, I recognized her and stared, incredulously, until she said, softly, sweetly, “je m’appelle Seraphine.”  

She moved in a bit closer, cocking her head towards my right ear, and whispered, “It is my favorite, it's so tender and passionate, the way he holds her, kisses her, the way only a god could.” I noted her tone, the way she said it, with such confidence, as if she knew, from experience, what it was like, to be kissed, loved, by a god.  

She gently pulled back a bit, looked me in the eyes, like a child looking at a puppy. She was beautiful, preternaturally beautiful, a paragon, goddess like. I just stared at her in awe.

“I think we’ve seen each other around Paris”, she said softly, smiling, “and may have bumped into each other in the Metro.” “Yes, I think we have,” I replied, as she extended her right hand, as a queen would, to a knight. I didn’t know if I should  kneel and kiss her hand, or shake it. I took her hand in mine, it was soft, warm, moist. I could feel her youth, femininity, life in her hand. I shook it, gently, stopped, slightly released my grip, our hands slid apart, touching, sliding, caressing down our fingers, stopping ever so slightly at the tips, before releasing. The ecstasy of her touch. I longed for more. I heard her sigh, my eyes moved from her hand, to her lips, finally to her eyes. I smiled and said, almost in a whisper, “Je m’appelle Damien.”
2.7k · Jun 2019
soldier’s fear
ghost queen Jun 2019
i look out into dark, savoring the quiet, the stillness of new dawn, wondering who die today, whose life will end and whose will change forever, sending a shock of wave of pain and grief from an epicenter of a dead soldier

who will die today, whose mother wife daughter will cry today, whose father son brother will fall today

the sun has risen, reality has set in, its time to ride, its time for some to die, we roll the dice, who will land snake eyes

to sit in the humvee, knowing you are playing russian roulette, you can’t  have hope, no inkling of a dream, lose the desire, it is the only way to survive, knowing you may die, give up all hope, consider yourself dead, be grateful at the end of the day when you are not. the drive down suicide alley, like the walk up gallow’s stairs. now i know how they felt. you surrender to fate. you stop thinking, you stop feeling, you go numb.

no longer in control, my life is no longer mine to live or die

i don’t believe in You, not since i was a boy, but i pray, that if we hit an IED, that i die instantaneously. i don’t want to lay on the ground, feeling the horror of dying, crying that i want to live, screaming out for my mother like i’ve seen happen to other guys

there are things worse than death, the living hell of coming home in pieces, physically damaged, emotionally traumatized, spiritually disillusioned, which slowly erodes and destroys your life. a new war, another battle, this time at home, fought in your head. the cycle of trauma 6-9-12, addiction, depression, how long do you let yourself free fall till you hit rock bottom

i am a man, i am not suppose to be afraid, but i am, i can’t show or say, not to them, especially not to you. i am not allowed to show fear, be vulnerable, you will lose respect, stop loving me, tell me to man up, in some subtle way

when everyone has left, everything lost, when the pain is greater than the fear. you must, you will, reach out, or die in combat, killed in action, in the war fought in your mind.
2.7k · Feb 2019
love or lust
ghost queen Feb 2019
this obsession that consumes and burns within me
is it love, true, unconditional, the kind in fairytales
or limerence, intoxicating, ephemeral, lasting only 900 days
the moment i pledge my highest love, i face my greatest fear

when i fall to sleep at night, you are my last thought
the first when i wake, then all day long
kiss me, sweetly, softly, eternally, promise never to stop

wrap me in your arms, hold me tight, like a scared child
show me your love, prove it to me over and over again
kiss me, on the lips, tenderly, so i can feel your pulse

whisper, in my ear, tell me the lies i want to hear
share with me, the secrets, deep in your soul
faint echoes fading in a wishing well

kiss my lips, my cheeks, ******* tears
undress my dear, bare your skin, your soul, let me see you whole
let me taste your tears, i promise never to leave

run your fingers through my hair, feel its softness, smell it’s sweetness
do you remember, when we first slept together
scared children, orphaned, hugging each other tight, all night

i need to feel you against me, your breath on my neck
your scent, enveloping, penetrating deep within me
hug me, cradle me, rock me gently into security
#353 2019.04.02
2.6k · May 2019
do you need a quatrain?
ghost queen May 2019
death is coming, it is a dark point on the horizon
it will be here, sooner than expected, the planet is dying
why are you preparing for a future, the future
why are you denying it is happening, sticking your head in the sand
going about, living carefree, when your children will suffer, millions will die

do you need a quatrain, a burning bush, to see the horror racing towards us
nostradamus didn’t see it, but we did, like a slow train wreck
the air will burn your lungs, the oceans scald your flesh
by the time you react, you will have reached the point of no return
your children are an army of dead men walking
their bodies catching up to their environmental fate
it is too late to cry, it is time to die

what will we do, how will we choose, who lives, who perishes
your cozy lives will disintegrate in social chaos as individual fight for survival
our former rules and norms will vanish, as the strong and ruthless vanquish
you will witness horrors, etched into your mind, re-dreamt every night

scream and cry, it could have been avoid, such is the tragedy of the commons
complacency of the masses, mass graves of the innocent
gods will die, civilizations will fall, as you huddle, shaking in a dark corner
Darkness, by Lord Byron , 1816, year without a summer

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3322429/pale-horse/
2.5k · Nov 2018
abandoned lover
ghost queen Nov 2018
once
there was hope
now
there is none

forgotten
are the dreams
lost
what might have been

i live
but die
a thousand
deaths

where is
the happiness
the one
you promised

what did
i do
why did
you leave

you were
my sun
you were
my reason

what sin
was committed
you banished
abandoned
me
into the cold

how
do i live
with this
agony
ghost queen Jul 2020
we are the lucky ones
sipping margaritas
lightning in the sky
death reflected back
in your eyes
blood mixing with tears
mother’s milk on my lips
who is the master
are you willing to follow
what is the safe word
stinging lashes
are you feeling the pleasure
losing yourself in the agony
night is coming
are you really ready.
2.2k · Oct 2018
Letting You Go
ghost queen Oct 2018
i know
i need
to let go

I am not ready
to release you

I endure
the pain
suffer
the anguish

i am
a *******
wishing
forgiveness

i want
to be free
of my
anguish

i should
let go
or be
dragged
2.2k · Mar 2019
dangerous illusion of love
ghost queen Mar 2019
at what point in your life do you realize the futility of chasing the elusive

acknowledging all your past love stories are tragedies

stillborns, held briefly, remembered daily, for the rest of your life

to meet the paragon that matches your impossible list of requirements

the odds are against you, possible, just highly improbable

to find the unicorn on a merry-go-round of painted, wooden horses

mindlessly, repeating the cycle, searching for the one, in a universe of stars

how many times must you be pulverized in the online emotional meat grinder

craving the unconditional love, acknowledgment, validation of prince charming

to be kissed, caressed, cherished by the bad boy on the harley

romantic love is a dangerous illusion, a mirage in the desert, la fata morgana in your heart
#233 2019.04.15
2.0k · Apr 2019
lasting mark on my heart
ghost queen Apr 2019
i tried to prove my worth to you, show you i was a good choice, a good mate
i took care of you when you were sick, when you had a bad case of the flu
i pulled my weight, cleaning the house, doing laundry, grocery shopping
i provided, making sure you never wanted for essentials, little luxuries
i protected, getting into a fight, when a guy harassed you
i did all these things to show you i cared and loved you, but it wasn’t enough
it’s been a year, i still find myself, missing, hating, loving you
my heart was broken, it’s slowly mending, still painful to certain memories
i am angry, you let me live in hope, in bliss, you knew you were leaving, that you were going to break my heart, destroy my world, my life, my soul
of all the women that i have loved, met, you are the one i wish i hadn’t
your actions shouted louder than words ever could, but i was deaf
you made other plans, building a new life, in another land, rekindling an old flame
like the phoenix, you destroyed everything in our lives, so you could rise, to love another
i am still in shock, still grieving, slowly recovering
you are no longer mine to nurture, love, take care of
like a passing training, no longer visible, i can still hear it’s whistle
my love has faded, but you left a mark, on my heart, that will never disappear
#97 2019.05.15
2.0k · Jan 2019
who has the power
ghost queen Jan 2019
who is the toy in this delicate, intimate, savage game
the player or played, the dom or sub, the boy or girl
who has the power, the control, the authority when holding another’s heart
lay down, surrender, savor the sweet intense distillation of love and lust
what is the price you pay for limerence my dear
power lies with whoever cares the least

in a  landscape of open graves
every love story are tragedies, always will be
tomorrow is never promised, not ever
you can not fight who you are
you will lose, tragically, epically

when the pain is greater than the fear
meaning, feeling of infinite hope disappears
the light fades to black, you plunge to the emotional depths
unbridled passion becomes overwhelming fear

ask lady Murasaki, “autumn is no time to lie alone”
the blossoms have fallen, the sweetest fruits picked
winter is coming , days grow colder, nights darker
the fire dies, only embers glow, in the center of the hearth
who has the power, the control, the authority when holding another’s heart
#258 - 2019.03.11
1.9k · Sep 2020
bad girl (erotica)
ghost queen Sep 2020
you’ve been bad 05-09
get my belt
so i can teach you
some manners

stand before me
turn around
lift your skirt
pull those ******* down

across my lap
your bottom in the air
your skin so white so soft
as i smack my hand
down hard
you yell in pain
and surprise
then start to cry

hush up child
get up
on your knees
look up at me
naughty girl

don’t talk back
when daddy talks
now to your room
without supper
1.8k · Jul 2020
Fleur du Mal (erotica)
ghost queen Jul 2020
whipped cream on your skin
blood and sweat from ecstasy
pulled *******
crop welts on your *****
overly sweet
like too much honey
why do you beg
what did you say
how come you cry
05-09
whisper in my ear
predator or prey
*** is power
play with me
strike a match
set me on fire
Fleur du Mal
1.8k · Oct 2018
Muse’s Kiss
ghost queen Oct 2018
My Muse is here, softly whispering in my ear.  
Forgive me, if these are words you do not wish to hear.
I looked into her eyes, and saw passion of ancient lives.  
Now I understand, why men died to look into her eyes.
Enchanting is her smile, disarming in the night, I felt naked in her sight.  
Her magic is strong, I can only but succumb.
My dying wish, to touch her lips, and surrender to her kiss.
My Muse is gone, my candle flickers.
Sleep calls, bells toll, from the Vicker’s
1.8k · Nov 2018
golden snow
ghost queen Nov 2018
it comes
slow, gentle

I sink
deeper, further

my breath
longer, easier

my awareness
narrowing, hazing

I sleep
succumbing, forgetting

It snows
falling, drifting

I feel
serenity, surrender

the flurries
golden, sparkling

i am
one with god
ghost queen Sep 2020
i see the hunger
in your eyes
the flush
of ****** excitement
the hot arousal
boiling over into lust

is it time
that day
during the month
when you feel
the desire
for a man’s touch

lay with me
light my fire
i’ll pay attention
touch your hair
squeeze your *******  

climb on top
start the ride
rock it hard
till you scream
I wan to hear you
*** in ecstasy

collapse on me
hot and sweaty
and be held
in my arms
embraced
all night long
1.6k · Sep 2020
chained (erotica)
1.6k · Jul 2020
make it hurt (erotica)
1.6k · Mar 2019
the deepest loss
ghost queen Mar 2019
in the deepest part of hell, my demons taunt and tease, i have no weapon, nor will

it is dark, it is cold, there is no light, i have lost all hope

i have dreamt my last dream, there is no longer a reason for being, only futility

tears flow incessantly, the anguish to deep, no respite in wake or sleep, no place to hide

cruel is the moment, you realize the nightmare is when you wake, sleep is the hell with no escape

the pain is too great, an emotional causality of a soul destroyed, i am insane with pain

my safe harbor has burned, my sanctuary destroyed, i no longer have a bastion where i can feel no pain  

mother never stop loving me, i will be a good boy, a good son, your little prince, god, my lord, give her back to me, don't let her die, … please.
Written April 21, 1998 as my mother lay dying on her bed of breast cancer
#130 2019.04.15
1.6k · Jan 2019
the animal inside you
ghost queen Jan 2019
i would look into your blue eyes looking up at me
kiss your lips still wet with wine
pull you near, against me, feel your body
taste your sweat along your neck
smell your scent, arousing, calming, reassuring
the animal inside of you
#231-2019.03.11
1.5k · Sep 2020
sighs and wetness (erotica)
ghost queen Sep 2020
say my name
say it again
louder
you know who i am
you like it
it turns you on
when you play
pretend
to be a little girl
pulled down *******
spanked behind
when its stings
you feel the welts
rising on your skins
the lack of control
submission
being told
your sighs and wetness
tell me so
1.5k · May 2019
locked out of love
ghost queen May 2019
please open the door
who do i cry for
the golden door is close
do you not want the joy, the ecstasy
the rose bush is blooming, fully flowering
let me in, just unlock the door
my quiver is full, my bow taunt, where is your heart
https://www.wsj.com/articles/a-victorian-era-artists-studio-lists-in-chelsea-11557417641
1.3k · Feb 2019
to hate what you desire
ghost queen Feb 2019
how confusing, to hate what you desire
fighting against nature, realizing the absurdity

i loved you, more than the others
feelings deepening, lives intertwining

i don’t understand, the sudden shift
why it become awkward, was it me

in the beginning, it was harmonious
your aggressiveness, evident, plain to see

i tried harder, but you receded
i felt it, you abandoned me

my hurt turned to anger, i started to dislike you
archetypal millennial girl, quintessential snowflake

love turned to hate, to contempt, finally boiled away
time passed, my heart healed

i become numb, indifferent
stop....,  i’m lying, to myself, to you
i’ll never stop loving you, mon petit minou
#140-2109-03-08
1.3k · Dec 2018
imperfect you i love
ghost queen Dec 2018
i love your imperfection
dry, split ends, rosacea cheeks, dry skin
the real things, the unique things, that make you

i love you most, in the morning
when you are just waking up
the natural, the real, unvarnished look

unpainted, i can see, you, in all your beauty
the acne on your chin, the scab on your lip
like a diamond with its countless flaws

you look, are vulnerable, approachable
i want to touch, caress your face
kiss your dry, chapped lips

rough hands, warm heart, i kiss your fingertips
nails natural, unpainted, coated in potter’s clay
i press my face into your hand, feel their strength

weekends, wearing comfortable torn jeans
baggy shirt, draping, but non concealing
i hug you like a dear, loved teddy bear

dollar store flip flops with a dandelion tops
the bottom of your feet dried, a bit cracked
from walking, bonding barefoot with gaia

you are the feminine, i am the masculine
you are the woman, i am the man
you are the girl, i am the boy

my love for you is endless, boundless, eternal..., Minou
1.2k · Nov 2018
the moment i saw you
ghost queen Nov 2018
From the moment I saw you
I was in love with you.

I watched as you floated around the room, like a butterfly collecting nectar, your eyes sparkled and glittered like thousands of facets off a diamond

As you moved, your hair undulated back and forth as if caught in a gentle ocean current

Your smile was magnificent, powerful, and awe inspiring, like the rising of the sun over a steamy exotic jungle

Across the room, you turned, our eyes met, and I felt a jolt, I had been harpooned through the heart. I could have fallen to my knees

I went from numb, stunned, to being on fire, with love and lust. I wanted you, wanted you so much. I could feel my primal urges and visceral needs rising and overwhelming me

I wanted to protect and provide for you, to build a house and hearth, to keep you safe and warm, a place to have and raise children, together

I wanted to hold you, feel you, in my arms, your head lying on my chest, snuggling, cuddling, purring like a newborn kitten

I wanted to look eternally in your crystal blue eyes, mesmerized at their depth and breath, like a endless desert sky

I wanted to kiss your lips, red, full, and moist like a rose on a French summer morn

You are a bijou, a jewel, like no other, rare, priceless, and precious, a gift to gods and men alike

I am grateful, for our brief, intense, and tumultuous love, like a shooting star across a darkening evening sky
1.2k · Nov 2018
surrender to love
ghost queen Nov 2018
winter
is here
cold
and gray

there is
no shelter
from the freezing
drizzling
rain

i want to come home
sit by the hearth
be protected
made warm

i crave
to be loved
held  
told
everything will be ok

hold me
in your arms
protect me
from the world
i need to feel safe

hug me
tight
i want to hear
your heart
beat

press me
near
let me
feel
your body
heat

i was a fool
to turn
to run
away

i need
your love
look into
my eyes
let me
whisper, i surrender
ghost queen Jan 2019
who do you pray to so late into the night
does he listen to your hopes, yours dreams, your desires
when you cry, alone in the early morning dark
do you see his actions, or replies

when you despair, during the day, and retreat deep into the woods
can you feel him by your side, protecting you, keeping you safe
when reach out, into the cold blue of the evening sky
can you feel him, grab him, pull him near

you believe in him, does he believe in you
is he more your creation than you are his
when all your wants are visceral, your desires carnal
to be touched, held, kissed, and loved, unconditionally
#168-2019.03.11
1.2k · Dec 2018
dry well of love
ghost queen Dec 2018
like a fool
i go to the well
hoping for water
knowing there is none

once, it was a spring
gushing from the ground
water sweet and pure

like a fool
i built a dam
to hold the water
and it spilled over

like a fool
i dug a hole
built a well
the water slowed
clouded and salted

the water ceased
the well dried
the spring died

like a fool
every morning
i go to the well
wishing, wishing there was water
1.1k · Dec 2018
loving you with the flu
ghost queen Dec 2018
as soon you as you walked through the door
i could see you were not feeling well
you rushed into my arms
buried your head in my chest
and started to cry

i wrapped my arms around you
hugged you tight
pressed you near

your cries turned to sobs
i kissed your temple, your hair
“what’s wrong,” i asked
“i not feeling well, i’m coming down with the flu,” you replied
“i’ll take care of you Minou,” i whispered softly in your ear

i took your hand
lead you to the couch
laid you down

i removed your shoes
covered you
gently stroked your hair

“i’ll make you some peppermint tea with honey,” i said
i turned on the tv
flipped to your favorite netflix show
started the tea

the water boiled
i steeped the bag
brought you the cup
laid it on the table

you were falling asleep
i snuggled up along side of you
warm and cozy under the covers

you cuddled up
a leg across my hip
your head on my chest
you hair tickled my nose
i patted it down
slightly away

i petted
caressed your hair
savoring your scent
your smell

i held you in my arms
sensing your breath
feeling your heartbeat
slowly, you drifted asleep
muscles relaxing
inhaling, exhaling deeply, gently

i held you dear
protecting, providing, nurturing, nursing you

you are my partner
my lover
my wife
but tonight you are my child

you mumbled in your sleep
wiped your nose on my shirt
drooled a tad

you were congested
your breath wheezed
you snored a bit
i loved you more

i never felt like a man
this intensely
caring, tending, loving his wife, his Minou
#89-2019.03.08
1.1k · Nov 2018
kiss me softly
ghost queen Nov 2018
my love
my obsession
last thought at night
first at dawn, all day long

you are a jilt
hold me near, hold me tight
squeeze me harder, make it hurt
kiss me sweetly, kiss me softly
whisper in my ear

the sun is too bright
the fools too near
i need refuge
make it all disappear

fractured body
damaged mind
i am broken
lost in time

hope extinguished
accept the darkness
feel the nothingness
surrender to oneness
1.0k · Dec 2019
tough chick
ghost queen Dec 2019
why do you pretend to be so tough, projecting a hard exterior, when i so clearly see the little girl behind a paper tiger. a little girl who wants to be loved unconditionally, protected fiercely, embraced heartily in her father’s arms, is that what i see in you, a reflection of me, a little boy, afraid, alone, craving intimacy, fearing, distrusting to love and be loved.

take my hand, let me lead, let me be the man, missing from your life, let me be an example, to witness, to rebuild the trust, that has been lost, remove your armor, slowly, piece by piece, let me see the child that you protect so fiercely.

learn to trust, allow yourself to be vulnerable, you have to give to get, trusting another is difficult, you are not to blame, there is no shame, being a child soldier, in an adult world, a veteran of lecherous wars, having your emotions manipulated selfishly, mangled carelessly, becoming cynical, suspicious in order to survive, leaving you disillusioned of the world, disgusted in those you need and want, depressed with the reality of a ruthless society.

we are older, wiser, bolder, the wounds have crusted over, healed, leaving scars as reminders, of what we want, but can not get without giving, patiently tilling, turning another’s heart in the spring to harvest in summer.

it is frightening to show our true selves to another, perilous in what is required to develop the craved intimacy, frightening in escalating, arduous in sustaining, and reciprocating personal level of self disclosure.

we anesthetize ourself with drugs and alcohol, or distract ourselves with mundane things, quotidian tasks, to numb the deep need, the intense yearning for emotional connection, the warmth and security of being held like a child in mother’s arms.

you have to give to get, to love to be loved, to accept to be accepted, for “the greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return (1).”

(1) Nate King Coles (Nature Boy)
965 · May 2019
you pierced my armor
ghost queen May 2019
how did you do that, penetrate my defenses
batter down my walls, piercing my armor
touching my heart, revealing my desires
when you pulled back the arrow
it hurt physically, but more emotionally
i felt the void, of all my unmet wants
To the woman (Jamie), I met 05.10.219 at the Panoptikon in Dallas' Deep Ellum
913 · Jan 5
human nature
ghost queen Jan 5
history
never repeats
but human nature
does
899 · Mar 2019
cold wind of death
ghost queen Mar 2019
night falls, winter is here, a cold wind blows, around me like a dervish, through me, enveloping me, stinging my eyes, drying out my soul

what is left but for me to die, to lay down, close my eyes, have one last dream before the end, the blackness swallowing me, the candle flickers, then dies, like my life, releasing my soul into the bluing sky

no regrets, just faded memories, of halcyon days, when i would look forward to spring, my eyes resting upon women, dancing, and laughing carefree

those days are far gone, my body aches, my mind tires, i am ready for the end, as beautiful as life was, the sweetness of honey on my tongue

the book has been read, the cover has been closed, I place it on the table, and close my eyes
inspired by violin and piano concerto cold wind by ludovico einaudi
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNfclX38EHM
#111 2019.04.15
#176 2019.04.30
878 · Nov 2019
flirty morning texts
ghost queen Nov 2019
............ morning

I say this sincerely and from the bottom of my heart, you are incredible, fascinating, and impressive

Ahhh, thanks JC.
I’m flattered you think so because I feel quite ordinary.

You are the most extraordinary and exotic orchid in the jungle

And then you say stuff like that, that makes me wonder what you wrote before is true.

I don’t understand

That is so untrue, that it makes me wonder about your previous sincere comment

It is true in my heart and soul, please never ever doubt it, accept the compliment, deeply and fully !!!



............ next morning

I accept the first one. 

Baby Girl, what I write about you, is inspired by you, it is what i see and feel, please believe and  accept the compliments unconditionally, as I don’t say what is on my heart casually


............ next morning

Good morning Sleeping Beauty, how is the fairest flower in the forest this morning

This flower is wilted.

My flower has awaken, opening, unfolding to the glory of the sun, inspiring the birds and bees that swarm around her, vying for her nectar

Be a good Parisienne girl, and accept and bask in compliment of one of your many male admirers

That’s my fav poem yet.  Hmmm, many male admirers....


............ next morning

A little poem for you this Monday morning

Chère Reine, ouvriez votre coeur, laissez moi secher vos larmes, aimer votre ame.

Baby Girl, be kind your you inner little girl, she needs your attention and love too

Truer were words could not be written today
Reine...isn’t that queen?

Yes, as in you are my Queen

My dearest Queen, open your heart, let me dry your tears, love your soul (sound better in French)

Everything sounds better in French

Did you like the Queen poem
(remember I’m sensitive artistic type of guy )

Yes, I liked it..., sending you a loving kiss


............ next morning

Your baking is always superb, you are my heroine..., call you Chef Girl Genevieve

I don’t post the stuff that goes amok.
I am no chef. That is an earned title and I def do not qualify. I just like to play in the kitchen with sugar

you are a grand chef in my eyes

Faux chef Genevieve

here we go again, am i going to have to write another poem of how great you are

I must have blown some other kind of dust in your eyes

You are like a wickedly delicious ice cream sundae, made up of complex layers of intelligence, wit, charm, and sophistication. And the cherry on top, is your stunning elegance, femininity, and beauty
written from a series of morning text messages
852 · May 2019
the moth and the butterfly
ghost queen May 2019
which one was i, the meddlesome moth or the bumbling butterfly
was i instinctively drawn, to an open flame, on a lonely night
or, caught in intricately, meticulously, woven spider’s web
how could i avoid either fate, all men are dumb and succumb, as did i
both end the same, in death, only one is fast, the other slow
how sweet it was, to have kissed her lips, to have been, her lover
ghost queen Jan 2020
I’d burnt out of the city, the long hours, high pressure financial job; and the uptight, high strung, high maintenance girlfriend. I’d walked out and away from the mess that had been my life, and found this place, far from it all, where time slowed, almost crawled, where there were no expectations, no schedules, no rules. Life was lived minute-by-minute, never giving a thought to what had to be done tonight, tomorrow, or for that matter, ever

I’d flown in to the frenzied capital, rented a car, and made my way out of the beehive, towards the Caribbean coast, buying a map and following the road eastward, not knowing where I was going, or what I had in mind. I just wanted to get away, to be lost in the jungle.

I would know the place when i saw it. It would feel right, like rain on a warm afternoon. I reached the coast, drove south, stopping at every village and bar along the way. There were barely any tourist, not much to see, no white sandy beaches, no ancient ruins, just countless impoverished fishing villages and family run kitchens to feed the locals, the fishermen, and occasional daring tourists

Night was coming. I stopped at a village, found a kitchen by the shore, and ordered my usual, casado and una cerveza; my favorite. I asked the house mama for a room. She said they didn’t have rooms, only hammocks on the edge of the shore. I paid for the meal and a hammock. A girl took my hand and showed me to the hammock. The fisherman were already asleep in their hammocks, their boats shored, nets folded on the side, ready for their early morning foray into the turquoise sea.

I woke, gently, to the sun brightening in the sky. I sat up, feet hanging off the hammock barely touching the sand. I got up, walked to the kitchen and sat at a table in a make shift court yard, palm leaves shading me from the sun, swaying slowly to the warm sea breeze. The house mama brought me gallo pinto with cafe con leche. Nothing had ever tasted so good.

I got on the road, driving along the coast, to my left was an endless expanse of turquoise to the horizon, to my right, unbroken wall of jungle. I drove nonstop, till I got hungry and stopped at a village for gas and lunch. I walked into the trading post, and looked around. There were all sorts of supplies remote villagers and fisherman would need. On a whim, I bought a hammock, machete, water, canned goods, and beer, what I thought were all the essentials.

I pulled out my map. There were no towns along this section of the road, only the occasional village. I was going to find a stretch of beach, setup camp, and chill, gazing out to the horizon until the sun set.

I drove slow, checking out the beaches for a place to camp. The shore was a continuous, nondescript, pale brown, until i rounded a bend and the view opened up to a cove. Through the palms, I could see a black sand beach. Intrigued, I pulled the car to the side of the road, and hiked down to the beach.

It was surreal. A secluded cove, black sand, fallen trees in the surf, the bark worn away from the abrasive sanding, branches reaching into the sky as if pleading for help. It was beautiful and eerie. But underneath it, I had a sense of foreboding. I couldn't figure out why and let it go, as I had found my little piece of paradise.  

This was the spot I was looking for, far from the villages, secluded, isolated, unworldly. I unpacked my stuff, opened a beer, setup the hammock, and settled in, slowly, eventually, falling asleep.

I awoke at twilight. The temperature had cooled. If was comfortable, slightly balmy. The sun had set, the moon risen, hanging over the turquoise sea, casting a long reflection to the shore.

I looked out over the water, saw something, a shark, a dolphin, breaking the mirrored surface, probably hunting the shoals for food. I dismissed it, and thought twice about going for a swim.

I saw it again, this time close. I watched, curious, hoping to get a better view, when I saw a head, a human head, slowly bobbing up and down. I got out of my hammock, walked to the shore to get a closer look.

I looked out and saw eyes. The eyes of a woman looking intently back at me.  An uneasiness rose up inside of me. What was a lone woman doing in the water, in the evening, this far off the beaten path. She wasn’t thrashing, screaming, just bobbing in the water looking at me.

She disappeared under the water. I watched, waiting for her to reappear. Was she a scuba diver? She surfaced, this side of the break, half her head protruding from the water. I could see her hair, eyes, and nose. She wasn’t bobbing, but kneeling in the the water.

We stood there, looking at each other. I didn’t move, didn’t want to scare her away. She moved closer to shore. I got a better look at her. She had black hair, tanned skin, and big eyes, like those of a Japanese anime character. I blinked, not understanding or what to make of her eyes. I wanted to back away, get some distance between me and her, but I couldn't. I was frozen in place.  

She stood up, slowly, the water dripping down her hair, shoulders, chest. She was naked, tall, slim, with an hour glass figure and full, firm *******. She had the body of a goddess. She slowly walked up the beach, the full moon clearly visible behind her. I could see the rest of her, curved hips, long legs. She was a fantasy, walking out of my dreams into reality.

She walked up to me, stopped an arm’s length away. I looked into her eyes. They were big, beautiful, turquoise green, like the color of the sea behind her, even more unbelievable, were her pupils. They were vertical, like those of a cat.

Fear rose up in me. My gut told me to run. But another part of me was intrigued, worst, turned on, so I stayed, frozen in place. She had the beauty of a goddess, I was enthralled, I knew it. She knew it.  Her right hand slowly reached out to me, touching my cheek, gently. Her eyes looking into mine for a reaction. I was getting flushed. My heart raced. My breath fast, a mixture of fear and lust. She put her palm around the nap of my neck, pulled me slowly to her, tilting her head, and kissed me, softly, gently on the lips. I started kissing back, getting aroused. She put her arm across my small of my back and pulled me into her, my body pressed into hers. I could feel her softness, warmth, inviting, and comforting.

I put my hands on her hips, sliding down to cup her checks. She started to kiss me more aggressively, sliding her tongue in my mouth, ******* my lower lip into her mouth and biting down hard. I could feel the lust and passion in her kisses. I succumbed to her seduction.

She lowered me down gently on to the sand, straddling, kissing me ever more fervently. She started unbuttoning my shirt, then ripped it open. She slide off my shorts and mounted me, sliding down to bottom of the shaft, rocking back and forth, her hands pressed against my chest. Her moans were soft, spasmodic, as she tilted her head back. She increased the intensity of her rocking, her moans grew louder, more intense, more visceral.

Her beauty was intoxicating, her moans exciting, her every rock getting me closer, amplifying my arousal, till I came, convulsing in her arms, in ecstasy.

She rolled over, flipping me on top of her, making sure I was deep inside her, a slight smile of satisfaction on her lips.

She laid her head back onto the sand. I slide off and to her side her. She got up, looked me in the eyes, then started walking towards the water. I got up, chasing after her. She walked deeper into the surf. I followed.

When the water reached her waist, she dove in the an coming wave and disappeared. I expected her to surface, but she didn’t. I walked faster, then paddled, then dove after her. I swam out, beyond my footing, past the breakers. I treaded water looking for her. I swam out further, knowing the danger.

She reappeared, bobbing in the water, looking at me expressionless. Her eyes said everything, seducing me to her. I swam towards her, as she swam away, going further out to sea. The water got deeper, bluer, colder.

She stopped. I caught up to her. We floated looking at each other. She drifted into me. Kissed me. I put an arm around her waist and pressed her into me. I wanted her, to have her, forever. I knew she was magical, grasped that she was a mermaid. I didn’t care. I was oversensed, no longer thinking, just feeling. I wanted more of her.

We sank into the water, entwined, embracing, kissing. I couldn’t get enough. I needed air, but ignored it, preferring the euphoria of her body. The urgency to breath grew, becoming uncomfortable, then painful. I stopped kissing and let her go. She held on, tightening her arms around me. I pushed against her, trying to break free. My lungs caught fire, my mind panicked. I thrashed against her. Then all went black, my body relaxed. I went flaccid, as a peace came over me. She held on, as I convulsed, a final time, in her arms.
788 · Jan 2019
solitude love kisses
ghost queen Jan 2019
ssssh, listen to the wind whispering through the trees
savor the sound of rustling, chiming leaves
let the stillness imbue you
surrender to the solitude, the quiet, the serenity

lay your head upon my lap
i’ll comb my fingers through your hair
feel the warmth of the evening sun
succumb to my love and kisses
#120-2019.03.08
ghost queen Apr 2020
It was getting dark when I exited the Port d’Orleans metro station. The cold air hit me instantaneously, seeping in between my clothes and skin. I tighten my long coat around me, readjusted my back pack, and pulled out my phone to confirm the address of Tango à Paris. It was only two blocks north of where I was standing.  

It was my first date with Séraphine. I had suggested dinner. She suggested something less formal, a bit more active, how about tango, explaining her studio gave a hour long introduction before the milonga. I agreed, as I had taken a year of tango, and felt confident I could keep up, maybe even impress her.

I’d wondered how she kept her 5 foot 8, 130 pound-ish physique, swimmer lean, and now I knew, she was a dancer.

I liked this part of Paris, the 14th arrondissement, L’Observatoire, clean, tidy, having the look and feel of a Nordic city like Olso or Stockholm. The sidewalks were full of interweaving professionals, eager to get out of the cold, the drizzle, and home to their loved ones.  

I walked up L’Avenue du Général Leclerc till I got to No 119. I pressed the buzzer and heard back, “oui.” “I am here for the milonga,” I said. The door buzzed, I pushed it open, entering a small foyer with sign pointing up a staircase to the first floor. I could hear the muffed sound of music and feel the movement of bodies dancing upstairs.

I climbed the curved wrought iron staircase, the old wooden stairs creaking softly with every step. I saw the studio immediately: two traditional French doors swung open, exposing a gymnasium like dance studio, with clean, golden yellow oak hardwood floor. Men and woman dancing, swinging and spinning about.

I entered the studio, paused, and looked around. At the far of the room was the DJ, sitting at table, with two loud speakers on stands pumping out music at just the right volume: loud enough to feel the music, low enough to talk your partner without having to scream in her ear.  

To my left, people gathered around a table. I walked over, they were writing their names with a felt tip pens on self adhesive name tags and placing it on their chest. A woman turned around and smiled at me. “Bienvenue,” she said, “I’m Jolene.” and extended her hand. “I am Damien”, I replied, shaking her hand politely. “Is this your first time here,” she asked. “Yes,” I replied, “I am waiting on a friend, Seraphine.”

“Mais oui,” she replied with a smile, “she is one of our best dancers, talented, if not gifted.” Her head turned slowly towards the doors, my eyes following.

In the door stood Seraphine, wearing a spaghetti strap, damask black on maroon tango midi dress, slit high up her right tigh. Her shoes, opened toe, black thin strap heels, showing off her matching blood red toe and finger nail polish and lipstick. Her eyelashes thick, black, eyelids smoked dark, giving her the stereotypical look of a femme fatale tango dancer.  She was gorgeous, seductive, awe inspiring, like Bouguereau's The Birth of Venus. How could a man resist such a siren. She was goddess among women.

She walked over to us, said, “Bonsoir Madame,” and kissed Jolene
twice on the cheeks (faire la bise) as is customary among Parisian friends, then  turned to me, touched her cheek to mine, making the mwah, kissing sound.

I was intrigued. The kiss implied no longer an acquaintance, but in her inner circle of intimacy. It had subtle implications that set my mind racing about the meaning; it was also maddening, like trying to see a completed jigsaw puzzle while only holding one of a thousand pieces.

“Ca va,” she asked, bypassing the formal “comment vas-tu” greeting. “Ca va bien,” I replied. “Your dress is stunning,” I said. “Thank you,” she replied, with confidence.

She sat down, ruffled through her bag, and pulled out ecru opened toe tango shoes. I couldn’t help notice her feet, delicate, feminine, absolutely exquisite. I also couldn’t help noticing her tigh, exposed through the slit of her dress.

Before she could get up from the chair, an older man approached, extended his hand, which she accepted. She stood up, looked me in the eyes, and said, “it is rude to refused a dance when asked.” They walked to middle of the floor and started to dance to a slow, sultry, Spanish guitar piece. I sat down and watched. She didn’t just dance, she pranced, shook, and swayed her hips as only an accomplished Latin dancer could. It was amazing to watch.

The music repeated, slowed, and concluded. They walked off the dance floor, to the beverage table, topped with a variety of multicolored bottles of wine. He poured two glasses, offered her one, as they talked, she smiled and occasionally laughed. He bowed his head slightly, touched her upper arm, and walked away, as a cortina started.

Seraphine poured more wine in her glass and poured another glass, walked to me, and offered it. I took it, deliberately touching her hand as I did. She sat down, crossed her legs, the dress sliding aside, exposing her tigh, and asked me, “do you dance monsieur.” “Yes, mademoiselle,” I replied, as a new tanda of spanish guitar played. She stood up, extended her hand. I took it, stood up, and lead her to the middle of the floor, dodging couples along the way.

“Tango”, I asked. “Yes,” she replied. I move in close, wrapped my right arm across her back, pressing her body tight against mine, extending my left arm out in position, palm open. She carefully placed her hand in mine, her forefinger on my thumb, her thumb on the radial artery on wrist, as if feeling my pulse. It struck me as odd and was curious as to why.  She’d done it in a such a methodical way.

Her hands were warm, soft, supple, dewy. She closed her grip and waited for me. I swayed gently to the beat of Tango D’Amor by Bellma Cesepedes, as she rhythmically matched my body. I stepped back on my right foot, holding her tight, bringing her with me, then left,  then forward. My chest pressing into hers. My leg brushed against her tigh as I moved, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow of the basic 8 count. I paused for a second, for her to cross then pushed forward, slowly turning to avoid couples.

I sensed her body heat, felt the wetness of perspiration on her back, smelled the earthiness of her scent. She radiated animal magnetism. I couldn’t, nor wanted to resist her. I knew I was a moth, she the flame.

New music started to play, Fuego Tango by Athos Bassissi, a traditional fast staccato accordion piece with a distinct beat for walking, turning, and swaying. I placed my my hand between her shoulders. I couldn’t feel a strap. She wasn’t wearing bra. It felt intimate, seductive, only a thin layer of cloth between us.

She pulled her head back, looked at me in the eyes, and said, “Tighter, I need to feel you, your body, your moves, so I can respond to your body.” I wrapped by arm completely around her, pulling her tight against my me. My primal urges welled up. I wanted her, to kiss her, to protect her,  to provide for her, have and raise kids with her. I felt stronger, more powerful, like a man. I wanted her in my life before she disappeared forever.

She placed her forehead on my temple. I rocked back and forth catching the beat, stepping backwards with my right, and we started to dance, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow, in a vertical expression of horizon desire.

Bending my knee, sliding forward, my chest pressing against hers, pushing, stopping, shifting, subtly twisting, I signaled a backward ocho. I waited for her, than slide to the left bring her with me, waited for her to pivot then slid right, bringing her with me, then waited for her to center. I walked forward, stopped, signalling for her to cross. I waited for the beat then finished my eight step basic.

I could feel her breath on my cheek, fast, hot; felt her breathing, her chest rising, falling sensuously. She felt good in my arms, as right as rain. I liked holding her, feeling her so close to me.

I started an eight step, stopping at the cross, signaling her to move right in preparation for a scada. As she moved, I stepped between her legs, pivoting her and me 180 degrees, repeating the step 3 times, bringing her back to cross, and finishing the step.

I heard her audibly exhale, relaxing in my arms. She was giving up control, learning to trust, surrendering to me. And I, was one with her, nothing else mattered, all else had disappeared. I was in a state of deep mediation. She was the now and forever.

The music stopped, I looked at her, noticed the glow in her cheeks, felt the warm moistness on her back. But most of all, I noticed her dilated pupils. The glowing sapphire blue of her eyes, replaced by a fathomless blackness, which I fell into.

She looked into my eyes with a gentleness, a knowing, and smiled. A new piece started, Rain, by Kantango, clean, crisp, staccato. I moved, walked, slid, in step with the beat, losing myself in the sensuality of the music and the movement of the dance.  I pressed her tight against my chest, sliding forward, rock stepping backward, holding her tighter as I did a single axis spin. I heard her sigh in my ear and felt her body relax. I slid forward to the staccato rhythm, dramatic, forceful, almost charging.

I stopped and lean to my left. She extended her right leg back, and planeo-ed as I walked her in a circle, side-by-side rock, then to neutral. She tighten her hold, pressing me into her chest, her touch telling me so much, screaming her arousal.

I slid forward, to the side, staring an 8 count to the cross, going into a backward ocho, I shifted my weight, taking her into a moulinette, twisting to the right then to the left, as she elegantly danced around me, back to 5 to complete our 8 count.

I was no longer thinking, just feeling, one with the music, lost in the sensuality, in a type of bliss. I walked forward then back, turning her to the right. To my surprise, she extended her left leg, whipping it across the floor, then back, wrapping it around my leg, slowly sliding her calf up my leg, then unwinding to neutral. I walked forward, she spun around, and slowed her walk. My body colliding, pressing into her’s as we slowly stopped. She turned her face towards mine, raising her hand, touching my face, my cheek, gently turning, bringing it towards her’s, towards her lips. Just as we were going to kiss, she turned her face, my face plunged into her hair, the back of her neck. I could smell, Poison by Dior. I kissed the back of her neck, squeezing her slightly, as she moaned ever so slightly.
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