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projecting.So much projecting, Or that's what I call it. Projecting my feelings I lack, or I need to expel om surrogates through relationships, bonds mending and breaking. So with love, once given to a foolish boy in the tall school grass, I rapped my tongue around his Spanish name as if it were a golden ring. I have felt it in so many forms, rough like gems in condensed rocks sold at flea markets, smooth pearls rolling on my wrist, soft cotton clouds. I have felt love made to fend off everyday pains, forged together with someone as a shield in the darkness, leaving us in our own condensed world. I have felt substitutes, kisses to feel loved, or the sensation of loving, and only truly feeling it once.. but it was like fireworks, beautiful, then gone with the wind, the situation replied romantically of course, and in the sexual nature. Let us not forget the truly platonic; love stored for the mother, the father, the surrogate. I find myself happy with my step father, laughing, smiling,
Enjoy the SilenceI sat there across from him in the freezing cold on his porch. He lit his cigarette and looked out onto the water; I admired him in silence, watching the smoke disperse in the chilly night air. Nothing was said between us. "Maybe I'll head in and get a beer" I thought to myself. I was too young to drink, but on the other hand I was too young to be sleeping with him either. He glanced at me for a moment, and I in return covered my nakedness, wrapping myself tighter in my blanket. "Yeah, a beer sounds great right now." I think. I get up hesitantly, and walk over to him, seating myself on his lap, my blanket dragging behind, so much for the beer. Oh well, we was warm. He put out his cigarette and looked at me, neither of us opening our mouths, neither of us saying a word, just sitting there in silence. With no way to break it, I kissed him softly and laid my head on his shoulder. Still nothing. I kissed his neck, once, twice, nibbled on his ear. Nothing. Kissed him on the cheek, and conti
the huntsmanAlways running, in this vast Labyrinth.
Back to the beginning. Running, clawing my way out of this deep dark pit,
to be dragged back down.
It's inevitable, this hellish life.
What sins could have provoked this?
I have found places of solitude and tranquility,
but all have been ripped to shreds.
Leaving only refuse in the form of memories.
The Huntsman always finds me,
His hands taking my hair, bashing my head against windows.
These doe eyes are a sign of the hunted,
and laying lifelessly in his teeth.
It has become a game, my running.
almost calm and composed in the beginning.
I may have finally won...
A sharp pain on my back, he's drawn back his Bow.
I can always run, but he will always find me.
The house of cardsThis is the point. I've mapped out years before. This is the point that I know my head will be slammed against a wall. This creature corners it's prey. I've tried to tame it. But never, even a child raised by wolves can't control these things. Fifteen years I've spent in this cave. Yes, years of meticulous calculations. The radius in which testing the water, or spitting fire, was going to kill me, and the distance, or closeness, that made it inevitable. I have ran, but he always finds me. Holding me between sharp caged teeth, always drawing blood. I know the roll of his haunches, the look in his eye, the low throaty roar. He is lacking in therms of sight, almost blind, frantically ripping at what he can. Deep and dark the creature is grand, this savage beast only accepting music for so long. In my years in this dark wet place, my song bird like voice has soothed him. Lashes, scars... I realized I was strong the day I began fighting back, I was small. Not even twice his size. His shadow
Glaring, glaring, sharp bright.
But the night is dark and dead.
There's no sense of place.
I'm pulled out of my writing.
Winning people over with propaganda.
All I want to do is write.
No one knows how you treat me.
All the posters in the house, all of those in Germany.
All the dark in the camps.
Bright lights. Glare.
No sense of place.
This house. These camps.
Let me write.
I sat there with Tayah, sipping my drink. The Fat Cat clearly didn't deserve the name "Cafe", but I sat there with all of my art supplies out.
"You know what I want to hear a gay parent say? 'You were an accident' try pulling that off." I only found it slightly humorous but the woman beside me laughed
"Why thank you, thank you!" I said slightly bowing my head. This tall dark woman smiled and peered down at Tayah and my sketchbook.
"May I see?" she said, reaching out an arm, her warm face smiling.
"Honestly, I dedicated this sketchbook to fallacy, I've been really sexually frustrated lately..." I said shyly, but nothing spurred her. I handed it over, avoiding eye contact.
On the first page was a black and white drawing of a girl, mouth open, mid fellatio, her lower lips slightly dragging away from the man's steely member, cum dripping down her chin, I feared the woman would judge me, but she looked in awe. "This is beautiful!" she said, now sparking a conversation.
We laughed and laughe
The man with no face
If you ever hear me reference "the man with no face",
Don't feel as if you are left in the dark.
He is tall, slender, with strength, with an illuminating spark,
In his eyes I see passion, sparking like stars, but not features within a man, that would leave him named or marked.
He is older, to some extent,
He is cunning, in some ways.
Loves music, life, and lust,
A sly expression on his face,
He never waits for dusk to strike; ever changing he may be,
His intentions stay the same,
Be it in my fantasies and lucid dreams,
An ever-present flame,
The man with no face is many men,
But still always the same,
At the back of my mind, behind closed doors,
Never knowing from where he came.
Oh? Like a show?
Running my hands over my quivering body, chest rising and falling heavily?
To hear each sweet moan before they escaped my window? Left feeling at peace?
If you were to ever run your hands over me, you would feel the beating in my veins.
To lay your hands on my chest and find my throbbing heart, only when setting lightly your fingertips.
I'm known for my literary tricks, or in this case, my talented tongue.
What can I say?
Word play is literary foreplay.
Oh, continue? Make myself blush a rosy pink? Try to describe just the way I feel, warm and tender?
Oh no, I'm too innocent.
Too fragile, even for a man with such gentle fingers, no... Even in resilience I can't help but explore myself with sweet sensitivity...
Oh how sweet, only sharing soft sweet kisses to please.
I'm as I said, fragile as a flower,
and love to savor slow.
Only to turn away,
and pretend that I'd wish not to go further.. I'd be lying by the way.
Only upholding this lie to preserve my innoce
"Cummon', you said you'd walk me to class." I looked at him frankly. "ALL the way. And I'm late, so don't disrupt it?" He looked at me with a look what clearly said "Zoe, why are you doing this to me?" He put his arm around me and walked me in.
As we got to the door I stopped and looked at him, my eyes begging for the expected kiss, but instead he walked into the classroom himself. "This isn't even your school! You're going to get in trouble! Are you going to embarrass me?" he said nothing and strode in taking my hand.
Class had already started, Mr.Junge had already sat down. I was late more than late. Fuck, I was beyond late.
"Who the fuck is he?" The voice was clearly Bakari, trying to make things a million times harder on me.
"Who am I? I'm her fiancé! That's who I am!" I looked across the room; apparently no one took him seriously. Almost no one popped up their heads, and those that did looked back down within a second.
"Mr.Junge, can I make an announcement?" He looked d
UntitledAnother dash of bathwater to the hips
And I've fallen in love with her crooked teeth,
Palpable clavicles and tinctured flesh.
The kink of her red hair
Defined in the moisture of our space
Saddening past her pale shoulder.
Another drop down her thigh
And I've fallen in love
With her dark knees and
Still, I let these rough hands of mine be pulled toward her,
Forwardly atop breast and about neck;
The lip and cheek stain all but washed away now.
She is sweet pink and beige,
Tinged with red.
Eyes with a history
Green as life.
Her freckles dance atop a blushing chest
And I am drawn closer
These rough hands trying
To find their way (back) home
Unshaven legs fair and heady whilst framing my waist,
Fingers done tracing their way up a scar wound alongside one knee;
Her bodily cycles altogether recrudescent for me.
Her lips move
"Nothing held back;
We are free."
And I've fallen in love
With her raspy voice and
I can tell she is read
Falling From Your LoveHey you, with shining azure eyes,
and hair to rival Cytherea.
I have lost myself in your embrace
but wish never to be free again.
I feel as though I have fallen
for you from the high of your love-
Or perhaps jumped into the pools
that shine like stars whene’re you smile.
There is some subtle difference
between the breathless act of falling,
and the daring risk of jumping.
But both leave you for a moment,
floating so far above the clouds.
From this high heaven I look down,
and see you, anchor to the world.
You hold me fast and keep me close
Your velvet flower holds my heart,
deep within its smoldering walls-
your honey flows to meet my own,
and form a river of our love.
We share more passion in a glance
than it would take to light the sun-
The bliss of making love is cold
when set against your lightest touch.
Hey you, my softly glowing moon-
I want to share my heart with you,
you, who own all of who I am.
I’m waiting for the day I fall,
from the high of loving you
Tea TimeYou like me like you take your tea.
Like your tea I’m here sugary sweet.
Like your tea I’m pale and smooth.
A milky white.
Like your tea I’m to be enjoyed slowly.
Calmly enjoying the aromas, the tastes.
Like your tea I’m to be gulped down in a hurry.
You need it more than want it.
Like your tea I’m to be forgotten all together.
The pot is full.
The desire isn’t.
Like your tea I’m here when you fancy.
I need him. (ZADR)My heart jumped as I saw Dib start his long fall down to the ocean waves…meh. She got him. Pitiful human piloting skills. I wince as he crashes into the water…Perhaps he survived? Bah who cares.
…You do. You know you do. After being here for 5 years, you began to have feelings for the Dib-Human. You need him. He’s the only one that thinks you’re capable of doing something…in other words…he doesn’t find you useless.
I clutch at my chest at the realization.
“Gir, bring the ship now.” I say through clenched teeth. I need to save him…
It takes about two minutes for the ship to get there. I hop in and speed to where I saw him fall. I fly low scanning my eyes over the waves for any sign of life. I gasp softly as I see his black jacket floating in the water.
…My ship can’t go in water…
I slowly open the slide door, and cringe at the water. Can I do this..? This could potentially kill me. For god’
Come what mayI will keep you alive as long as you keep my attention.
I will enter your soul through the dark in your eyes
press my lips to yours stealing the breath from your lungs
never disengaging your gaze until you give into me
At the mercy of a madwoman with a gentle touch
I caress your forehead and enter your thoughts.
Your quickening breath is an aphrodisiac to me
you uncertainty feeds my excitement
your surrender, my climactic cuspid
Let yourself fall apart at my feet
let come what may
be it passion or death
Permission"If I ever meet you again, and if you allow me to, I will do anything and everything that you want me to do to you.
I will build you up to the point you explode, and then I will make every second, every minute last.
Torture your body for hours until you scream.
Feel every crevice, and stimulate every nerve till your brain shuts down.
You have no idea the depths of which are in my mind, the lessons I've learn and the power I hold that I cannot wait to unleash unto you.
Do not expect it, just be surprised and patient.
I will turn your world asunder.
Drive every inch of your thought process to the brink of your primal desires.
And then stare into your eyes as you lay there, watching, it all happen.
All this pent up frustration that has been built, I will release.
But only... only if you allow me to."
Oh with what a talented tongue I have, leaving men betwixt,
To let them smolder, left in splendor, words light as whipped cream.
The body of a woman, the power to bewitch,
Oh what a show, I display with my lips,
Catch them at "hello", a glance, or flick of my wrists.
To leave a man breathless, without even a kiss.
And I tease with my eyes and wonder if they've ever felt such bliss.
From the pads of my fingertips to the tip of my tongue,
I am all talk you see.
I am nothing but an innocent child,
inexperienced, tight, unexplored.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More