reversalofdespair

Late Afternoon

2008-09-06T10:31:00.000-07:00

In late afternoon she swoons upon the little purple

She comes to me in late afternoon
scrubbed and clean
her face and hair moist like a flower
kissed by dew

I drape her in ivory
she becomes a curtain swaying
to the touch of my rod

threaded to silken despair
she falls to her kness
her face lost between my thighs

as the sky puts on her purple robe
my own desdemona slips
to the floor

spent and trembling
between my leather-sheathed legs
her collar tinkles

as I spill upon her flesh
all my
amor

Maria

Hola, darlings.

Evening

2008-06-17T19:01:00.000-07:00

Infinite water ...

~I want to fill her with every wicked thought that ever
crossed my mind. Trap her face in my hands and allow
her to drink this breath of desire, that moves from
fire lust to the sublime water drops she thirsts for.
Beneath me on the hardwood floor she writhes in
pleasure kissed with pain. My tongue inside my
lover's mouth, strokes her tongue slowly and full,
cherishing her like a priceless pendant I loop my
tongue around every inch of her and echo the restless
beach lapping outside this white-washed house. My
body absorbing this flawed, submissive woman shivering
along my impatient intention.

inside her sea shell
my hands tease her to shiver
drowning her will

Maria

Night

2008-06-11T18:19:00.000-07:00

In my going out all together, like a candle. Alice

~The rain escapes through the window pelting
her. The sheer curtains are sighing across her
nude body like a chancellor choir. Her long braid
is looped around her left ankle, tilting her head
back, forcing her throat to become an offering.
The steady song of the rain and its slim slap
against her skin soften Ariana into a trance,
her lips parting to the beat of the elements...

inside

the rain enters

softly

~ The candles flicker out and her Mistress'
gloved hands simmer along her limbs in love
and pride, she kneads Ariana's buttocks,
slightly rougher with each touch. Ariana shivers
as Mistress' cool cape floats across her flesh.
At last Mistress' warm mouth is upon the heart
of Ariana's throat and she trembles into the
long body of the night...

her smaller heart

pulsing like gypsy blood

overflowing

Maria

Afternoon

2008-06-07T14:56:00.000-07:00

There is the beauty of strength broken by strength and still strong.
A.J.M. Smith

~ I brush her hair, listen as she purrs into the silent room.
Slow, easy strokes accented by my lips on her ears, scalp
and forehead. I give her instructions for her our next
meeting, the terrible, wild thing she will do, while she sits
in the lecture auditorium her eyes on me. For now, my love
is nude and collared, on her hands and knees collecting
gems I've scattered across our suite. I come up behind
her, my leg encased in thigh-high leather boots firmly
between her thighs, the sight of her vulnerable like this
makes me fear what I will do next...

in this private place
lanced through with the scent of lust
I devour your need

Maria

Morning

2008-06-03T11:05:00.000-07:00

Her coral revolver's mouth drawing me like a gleaming well. Peret

............................................................................................

~ She shivers into me. Her lips are here and there too.
Along the rim of my cup this lover sips my sweet tea.
And I keep her, held like this, for a forthnight of prayer.
I shall be the first to hear her poems. Her small mouth is
valiant. On her knees she's a princess searching for a
lost kingdom, blindfolded, her wrists gently tied with the
same slice of antique lace covering her luminous eyes.

the night frames

her face lost in my linen hair

blindness

Maria

Fallen Night

2008-06-02T06:38:00.002-07:00

A woman every night journeys secretly...

............................................................................................

~ Beneath my touch, her legs are tapered candles and
feathers, glowing and fluttering. Long delicate candles
alight as my hand taps the small ruby heart inside her
velvet-lined beauty. Only her hips are allowed to move,
her upper body is as still as the quiet ocean is tonight.
My lover's breathing is echoes a harp,and one slim
arm slips gently off the bed. She has come often and
is feeling faint, a shimmering mermaid, diamond-
like tears appear and my hand remains inside her
trembling beauty. She holds me. I continue to control
her hips until who she is, is another existence and her
face is exquisite as she orgasms, her emerald eyes
opening and closing, the black lashes kissing her cheeks.

I wash over her
a merciless ocean in love with the obsessional waves
drowning us both

Maria

Afternoon

2008-05-27T15:36:00.000-07:00

What Can I Tell My Bones, Theodore Roethke

My love is a wound.

....................................................................................

Tuesday

She is a part of me now, a part I'd thought
was lost. I cherish her in the moon's glow,
nude and vulnerable to my alarming desires.
Slow as a lazy sailboat, I bind her gently but
firmly, in the intricate fashion learned in
Japan. Her sudden inhale of breath and soft
moaning compromise my equilibrium.
I hope to never finish, for in my mind each
piece of rope is an extension of myself.

the softest lash
draws her further into me
my breath halts

Maria

Dawn

2008-05-26T07:29:00.000-07:00

Ulalame, Edgar Allen Poe

She rolls through an ether of sighs
She revels in a region of sighs
In agony sobbed, letting sink her plumes
till they trailed in the dust -

..................................................................................

Monday

There is something about her that is intangible,
she is so inherently passive, at times I feel as if to
be a heavy wind and she a sunflower, her face open
and needing, she doesn't even notice that this wind
swirling about, whipping her thin stems, wants her
irreconcilably denuded ...

dream dear for my love
for I will make a slave of you
fill your pores with desire

Maria

Noon

2008-05-25T12:15:00.000-07:00

Universe - Solitude, Samuel Beckett

It is the breath...joining our lips
And it is the caress the fresh caress
To scour the frail seas of thy shame
To fashion them in gloom
It is the mirrors of jasmine
The problem of calm.

.........................................................................................................

Sunday

Her arms were dusty and I felt the urge to have her
lie down across a small city of pillows and make dusty
angels, her arms going up and down, her legs slow scissors
slicing across the crisp linen sheets, her limbs grew very
tired but I wouldn't let her stop until she cried for me, and
she did, the softest cry, her limbs fluttering a pathetic help.

pretty butterfly

trapped in my lilac-scented web

self-will lost

Maria