tempest Jun 27
poke
squeeze
pinch

of the parts of me i despise

imagine
fantasize
wish

of a different vessel than which i am trapped in

remembering
recounting
recalling

of a day where i was taught to accept parts of my body i cannot change

understanding
realizing
knowing

although such a day failed to come,
the sun brings me another to try again
© tempest p
Scum litterin’
They hit ‘em with their hidden grin
Thought provoking bastards
No escape from them - the state I’m in
Grow slowly, ‘til your lips and lungs, tongue is slitherin’
Go for broke until your whereabouts confuse your kin
Purple pie face, when I’m irate over my day
Bumper thumping vessel, irritated on a Friday
Remove your spectacles and watch you hectic souls, while I migrate
The product of mallows and sugared grits, as I age
You know the rest, it goes, lay around and procreate
The tendency of seas is to move the food to my plate
Vicious cycles, overheated maybe you’ll hydrate
Perplexing ears on the canine makes my smile ache
_

radiant vision silken skinned
translucent alabaster blaze
torrid as a teen's temptation
leaned low here before me
yearning

strappened ankles fragile turned
stiletto'd rise
on carpet soft
emblazened vixen
forward bent
availed so boldly
craving
burning

dual swells of fleshen myth
atop two lathen'd stems
they writhe
smooth and lithe
as liquid love
turned by pleasure's gloried angels

stretched taut
raised high on tips of toes
proud
defined
and goddess buff
offered now
for hunger's taking
consumed until
I've had enough

graceful face
brazen aglow
comely raised and tilted back
my fingers tangled in your hair
lifting firm
lusciously slow

swept away in lustful swoon
forearms rest on velvet sheets
eyes aflame in sapphire need
blatant in your fetched seduction

Hedone's daughter lush with Spring
smolders
in soft golden fire
that folds upon you soft as satin
'cross nape of neck
arched silk desire

down glistening back
that tempting tapers
to warm and tender
sultry surprise

a wonderland for fingertips
to touch
and tease
and tantalize

to explore
your quivering body
soul-addictive
deliciously
grand

divinely-pleasing sculpted vessel
brought forth by Aphrodite's hand

virgin fruit swells full and ripe
flesh silhouette to hypnotize
enticing in the candle's flicker
fondled by my hungry eyes

I stroke and tweak
the blossomed berries
that burst
engorged with passion's heat

that taunt my tongue to twirl 'round
my teeth to nip the tempting treat
draw to my lips
now lewdly moist
to take
and taste in eager suckle

willful hands
of pleasured probing
wrap slender waist
then slowly slide
'cross pleading hips
to folds of Venus
liquid molten
deep inside

into this angel's fire I'm thrust
to thrust
and thrust
in randy lust

love's raging heart
demands I must
and so I wildly
thrust and thrust
until finally
I'm spent and bust
passion's seed
has turned to dust

and wanton
carnal
flames
are snuffed

spring's sweet madness
is full rebuffed

_


rob kistner © 2010
(revised 2018
Hedone was the personification and goddess of sensual pleasure.
*WARNING! For adult readers only!
Caro 4d
SOUL: Wrapping around me,
Holding me close,
Tapping itself and clothing my nose.
Keeping me in and tight.
My safety and my sensation.

It feels sunshine and shame and gets goosebumps and bruises and keeps me intact. It changes color and indicates.
It touches me completely.

The skin on my back my protectorate.
The skin on my hands my guide.
The skin on my face my years here.

It is with me to the end. It grows and stretches and covers my vessel. It craves and flinches and cuts and heals. It sweats and bleeds and cracks. It wrinkles and sags and baby it’s you and it’s me.
But beautifully, painfully, tragically it is not.

Because once the skin has done all it can do. Once it has lived its life and can’t work for this soul anymore. Though it has known me and I it, though it fully believed that this body was ‘it’. It dies.

And I go on. To claim another skin.

A skin to clothe my nose. A skin to protect my soul. A vehicle to let me travel on this earth I think I know.

Poor skin. Naive and Perfect.

SKIN: Poor soul. Going on forever and never ending, never resting, always needing me.
Julie 1d
It’s hell.
You’re living in hell.
Every day your hallucinations and delusions carry you futher and futher away from reality till one day you’re totally engulfed by them.
You watch yourself fall deeper and deeper and then you crash.
And it’s like you’ve never existed, nothing has ever existed.
You’ve become this empty vessel controlled by your demons.

— The End —