here are two of mine--dark, evocative yes.
Warm and rich like black rum
the blood pulsed thru her veins
yet never blushed her pale skin
to touch her was to burn your fingers
with raw heat like silk
her flesh barely containing it
her eyes showing the deep
ruby flames burning within
Infritah, elemental, primordial
soft, delicious, comforting
like the grave to a weary soul traveller
who cannot rest his chilled
limbs without first tasting
her heat like that sweet rum...
intoxicating, coursing thru his veins
to share depths of warmth
like swimming in a hot spring
layers of amber, glowing red, topaz
lapping with promise of more
floating, his head in her lap
the musky smell of burning
desire he turns his face
into her warmest place
eager to return to where
he came from so so long ago
but in a different way
craving her comfort to surround
his hard and painful reality
but wanting to thrust until
it hurt her as much
as it hurt him
tasting the salt of his own sweat
and her tears
but she smiles!
ah the coppery taste of her!
to take delight in her comfort
for just a moment
and then explode
in the ecstasy of being spent
laying on her like a damp shadow
distant throbbing now subsiding
she encircles him in arms
of pure and welcome death.
Cold sharp blades tipped her fingers
double-edged razor her tongue
Cut thru mediocrity and status quo
To entice the rogue of heart
From the middle of his
common, safe road.
She beckons with one crook�d finger
Gloved at first so as not to scare
Her red lips dripping with
to the first lived and the unknowing damned.
She has him when he veers off course
to the edge of the pavement
subtle movements quick and accurate
her touch on his sleeve is innocent
to only those who
wish to see it so.
She bathed in perfumes
of distant places
some existing, some no more
to cover the tang of human blood
and �sin� and freedom-
the scent of freedom scares more
than the scent of eternal death...
the scent of life well lived and pleasure
is more repugnant to
slaves than burning flesh...
So she hides in gardens
of his own making
delusions and tales he tells himself
to justify his junket
and his own lying heart.
Once she touches his flesh he is lost
her caresses bring such
wicked dreams and stark passions
that he forgets who he was
and only wants to be who he is!
Another Xtian bites the dust!
Another Child grows up!
Another Captive is set free!
Seduced by the wicked caress
by Ravyn Guiliani