Persephone

come. here. yes. I am talking to you. bring the flame in your eyes. and I will burn a thought into your illusive side. you will tremble. can you handle what am I? watch my mouth move. but are you ready for the words inside? like molten lava against your skin. can you take the pain that comes with one taste? will you covet to have Persephone again? the feel of subtle breathing. yours grow stronger with every heart beat. what it would feel like? to come close enough. to touch a candle when she moves soft and slow. to know the sensation. when she simmers. like a melting dance in the moonlight. can your mind dominate her beautiful rise? can your pride tolerate the yearning that follows the climb? dark tresses caressing your shoulder blade as you fall back down? do you wish to surrender like this? the way the sky collapses under rumbling thunder? tumultuous in torrential waters spreading. do you want to drench in what is foreign to you? this tingling down your spine like droplets on steamed windows. bring your vigor here. yes. I am talking to you. come. near.

Pandora's Box

Do you perceive persuasive strokes? Do fingers brush as letters cross? Do senses swerve from dusk to dawn, when intertwined with verbal rush? Do subliminal thrusts the thought provoke like ignited match an arson does? Do incensing spaces make faces blush, and push you onto craving words? Glass bangles dangle precocious spots, and coax you towards Pandora’s box. Though slightly open, chaos rocks-- you fiercely shake this fragile lock. Was I perpetrator who sparked the fuse? Or was inferno launched by you? Since addict habit cannot refuse-- inject night in veins to yen induce. And whilst my resistance quiet brews, carpe diem to make your move...

[Photograph by Bellezza Caotica]

Portal

Do you know what I see, when I look at you with these eyes? When I am caught vulnerable beneath your open skies? I see bluest streaks breaking through like loving arms around shadowy thoughts. I see mercy’s warm hand as it tears melancholy apart. I see portals of hope bursting, like splashes of silent stars. Do you know what I see, when I look at you with my dark? I see light exploding from out your heart...

[Photo by Bellezza Caotica]

Melting

In gentle way. Filling colors. Iris devouring. Mesmerized. Melting meadows. Between green glories. Amid your adoring shade. Quaking softly. You held my voice. With tender hand. They beheld only bracelets ringing. Hush you said. They walked away. While you thrilled flowers with potent sway.

[Photo by Bellezza Caotica]

Electrified

Once wilting and jaded, like pathway serpentine. Flat lined I laid here, post traumatic drive by. Somehow resuscitated with mouth to mouth supplied. Were you surveying movements of a ferocious mind, or witnessing the wiring from oft cathartic side? Emerald green injected on aqua blue reprieve, alleviation granted through secret chemistry. This fusion turns apocalypse to ardent prophesy, chasing catatonic with bionic ecstasy-- leaving speeding gunshot burns, on love's deep bleeding sleeve. Body flexing messages, you cannot capture me, so keep on breathing harder than harsh infinity. With one zealous motion, gravity defied, and found mesmeric haven for when our veins collide. Your voyeuristic tendency, I dare not you deny, but bolt I will bodacious through effervescent sky. Did you envision me a ghost, against the night time swept? Or streaming like a steaming sound, turned whisper on your neck? Illumination’s nucleus in shadow’s eyes is kept, and tonight, I am lightning so take in every breath. Induce a rhythmic pumping to bring me back to life— quenching sweetest fetish to be electrified. For just as I was flickering, I stand now galvanized-- plunging backwards beautifully off your blazing high...

Windows

I know. You want to break it. You want to come through places where only your imagination has taken you before this. Permeating mind frames and cryptic anomalies to reach it, but then find yourself at windows peeking deep with a sense of defiance against a half open door, for you are either too hesitant or obstinate to climb in. Do you quietly strive to uncover these contrivances, to feel the pressure of your penchant turning you turbo potent on my presence, engaging in thrust against subtle resistances? You considered it, and then relieved yourself on small details before that infatuation grabbed you again, leaving you with only seconds to refrain or spill. Yet you are too scared to ask, so you never will.

Listen. I used to scale walls to retrieve justice, and then plummeted off cliffs after prolonged racing with precarious liaisons, so I understand your need to explore compulsion and implore discipline, often one overpowering the other with competence. Still soon with time I transformed into something different, brought ingénue down with corporeal predilection, taking eternities to regain a sense of quaint reparation, a one-sided bliss with absolute obliteration.

Look carefully, my scars are still simmering, so I know what you feel, as you stagger struggling like I once did, but I fell in, and at moments revived, am still chained to it. So if persuaded by evasive allurements, resist those beautiful intensities, curvaceous calling, that uplifted and lure with voices of wisdom injected when you least expect it, then you find yourself fed but eternally captivated. The universe is titillated by those who encompass both sacred and sacrilegious tendencies. But observant, I cannot unveil my propensity for transgression has a way of desecrating consecrated things-- though the ecstasy of being broken by one’s own sadistic hand is a dangerous but delectable prescriptive. Hence, a part of me impels you to do it, because I would. And a part of me says run as far as you can make it, because you should. Some rushes entice like no others, and they never decrease in fervor. This one is like going full speed but then crashing into something soft and sweet. Exhilarating, but what is the price of penetration? And tongues are more enigmatic than mind conceives, interpretations warrant perceptions in between.

Sometimes we become hallucinogens, somehow the addicts find us, and we find them. It is a partnership in pain and relief, like breathing hard running on the street, then jumping the fence, against luring heat, to feel sweat beads fall from you to me. Do you remember this? Do you want to recreate it? What it feels like to smell my hair, the intensity of jasmine wrapped in something warm when I am held boldly, and then quickly let go before you accept me? Was it the way I break metal bracelets when I talk, or the way my eyes dart up and down, then across your face, and how you got caught tracing your vision around me, from eyes to mouth, then to my arm, until you glanced the other way, unarmed against what was disclosed. With my head titled back in my chair, did you want to reciprocate in ways only the raving dare? I watched you while my hands were at utter unrest, spoke with smokiness in my breath, where nicotine was never the culprit, but chasing my conscience causes breathlessness. Have you listened to the slightest lisp when I am nervous, a remnant of the child I am, and a sense of whom I became, and how my eyes under dark eyelashes flash you when you try to penetrate my intentions, but were reluctant to subjugate?

Perhaps expectations are part met, when we come pre-consumed with a cloth of a different thread, to drape my naked head. Still, you will reflect upon one day, and then press strong with a wish to have tasted your craving away. Perhaps the facade of the half-open window is just that, a betrayal, for you may never come in. Or maybe, just maybe, the thirsty are too blind to see concupiscence streams that flow before them, and have missed tenderly quenching obsession’s need. Whatever the case may be, revealed or composed-- you want to break in. This I know.