He comes to me in the guise of my most secret desires.
Undoubtably male, he oozes danger, rawness and sensuality.
He tempts me, seduces my thoughts, becomes an obsession;
he is but a dream and yet his power transfixes.
Like a moth I am drawn to his fiery nature,
flirting with potential disaster.
My strength, normally as marble pillars standing forever,
fails me and I crumble before him.
I ache to be possessed, even at the cost of my soul.
Something stirs within me, awakening at my core,
responding to the darkness to which he has retired.
I yearn for the ecstacy of his electric touch,
for the pain that will replace ecstacy when bliss retreats.
But for all his power, for all his strength,
will he ever comprehend the twin of his nature?
Seduction, after all, takes two.
1 comment:
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, for time is still a flying...and this same flower that smiels today, tomorrow will be dying."
Perhaps his very fear to leave the darkness was what had fettered him.
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