If I could taste a piece of you I would betray like the Last Supper. Yet I would not kiss anyone because my affection would be momentarily just for you.Will you satisfy my six lust groups or will I dominate? If I could taste a piece of you I would surrender that future hour to your justice. Dictate your verdict Sir: locked in wonder or free to wander?
An array of thoughts
Babbling through my ever so
Cautious mind. Should I
Delve into your world of
Fissure red-hot emissions or slide through to the
Glaciers on the other side of
Halt to the three four?
Inquiry mind of mine
Just needs to
Know am I as appreciated as your
Makes it seem.
Nodding your head in the heat
Of passion does not
Provide a justified answer.
Questions I do have the
Right to ask for my heart
To keep me safe and for the sanity of my thoughts
Urging me to dissect the
Very deep core of your
Wavering attitude. I will
X-ray every emotion, every
Yearning my heart, my body gives before I get to that
Zone of comfort.
Bemused, curled in
sheets eyes closed- remembering.
Down south made fingers closed
Exhausted – more sleep
Naked to the bone, hair sprawl
My interpretation of the above photograph for Magpie Tales Weekly Prompt.
Thank your reading. What is your take on the image above. Tell me in the comment section below.
I turned – transparent.
Making you raise, tall & strong
against soft music.
This week’s word for Prompt Storm is ‘Costumes’ since Megan[our host] is still flowing with the Halloween vibes. I took her advice and run with the word and the Katauta poem above came out. It is ehh one of those, you have to read between the lines *coughs and grins sheepishly*
Thank you for reading and I am coming over to your home to catch up on your costume stories.
Goosebumps – tingling to the surface of my sensitive, Mr. creates that effect from those straight aimed glances. There was no need for words which may irate me and deflate Mr.’s Ego. Just the looks generate a spot of moisture, as we inch closer and closer. Still no words but every stare translates an extra pounding of my heart. Should I await for Mr. to cross over lust’s gate or is it my turn to checkmate, judging from his heaving chest? Damn it, I have that itching to migrate your freight all over the place. “Eyes communicate this to Mr.”
You looked at me with that come hither smoldering stare.
There is a story behind that look,an urgent need.
So I stopped
Out of curiosity and an exciting pleasure to explore,
I am contemplating,
How to respond to your open request, should I show
Bold & direct response
Or the naïve school girl charm of long ago?
Isn’t the above image simply gorgeous?
I hear the sweet music of a box guitar and it makes me remember the happy melodies we heir together. Remember when you pluck the strings of my hair, I tried to suck in that C note scream but the sound float the room as we embraced in my falsetto. I tried to conceal the ta da da drumming of my heart but even your genteel fingers brought out the ah, ah, ah. A sweet serenade where skin meets skin in a cascade of chants. Pants, as you blow each key to a vibrating crescendo, our duo raise as I show you to your knees, fallen.
Today I attempted the poetry form of Prose Poetry with the prompt word ‘Fingers’ and the Literary Device: Assonance.
He said, “what if I leave to regret it, knowing that person was the one who got away,”
And I saw your face, that same shadow from many moons before.
But she said “when you feel that way about someone, especially your first love, you fight for that love.”
But the thing is you were not my first love and I do not want to fight for something that does not exist.
What is love if there is no communication?
I wonder if it did not work out the first time, who says it ever, will.
Maybe the lack of fortitude the first time around is a sign that nothing will become of this.
What exactly is this?
An endless mind game of forget me and forget me not?
Seducing Miss Dunaway by Kate Rothwell
Novella Published on August 23rd 2011
Odd is my word to describe this story. Let me break down “odd” for you. The characters are interesting, they are endearing with their nicknames, although it took me a minute or more to realize who the speaker referenced. They formed a typical scenario for a Victorian story: a ball, a dashing rich gentleman [Fell] and a lovely girl with a situation [Miss Mary]. However, when the story continued the potential romance between Fell and Mary felt awkward and forced. So awkward that I felt the sex scene forced and rushed. Yes, I know it is a novella but at that point of the story, the scene read like a copy and paste from a more developed story. I believe the probable couple have potential for a novel. A place to explore their sadness and lonely and the readers would link how those emotions brought the two together.
Novella Published January 16th 2014
A combination of attraction and the result of two lustful world colliding. The former line serves as an apt assessment of Claiming. I felt that the story was too short and certain events like Rowena’s fear of the Tower could be a lengthier subplot to add more taste to a vivid story. However, it is a novella so what can I say? Claiming introduced me to the shortest courtship in the history of getting to know someone. It was dynamic and attention grabbing moment; I had to read more to find out how Sir Saher and Rowena would axe down dividing walls.
It is a novella with erotic material; one may even describe it an erotic novella. The cover page depicts one of the riveting sex scenes. One of the benefits of Claiming is its guide for first time or inexperience lovers. If you do not want to ask anyone about lovemaking, well Sir Saher will tell you exactly what to expect. [Points for sex education]. *winks*
I am not an expert on all things medieval but I thought that the sex talk however did not sound like medieval dialogue. Maybe I am wrong but based on other readings, at times the novella reads like a post-modern one.