Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Firestorm

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My pulse races and stutters,

a staccato sound of gunfire,

as you draw near.

Senses enlivened by proximity,

electricity crackling,

the air

ripe

with danger

and desire

as you take what you need,

relentlessly. My defenses plundered

with the skill of a tactician.

This want

you’ve created,

 a violent firestorm

that burns it all down.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced.


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Awakening

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I cannot cage these thoughts

nor douse these desires.

Every encounter pushes me further over the edge:

to fall

to fly

into this fire

with you.

Cool sheets and exhausted sleep

coalesce into an awakening;

flames licking every inch of my bare frame,

sheets tangled around curves,

as my hands smooth over warm skin

and my fingers find every ache

with your name.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.


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Wrists

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Wrists touched

with tender fingers

upon sensitive skin, a provocation

an awakening

of feral need.

.

Wrist held

within a manacle

of your will,

pinned

and possessed

for pleasure

.

Wrists kissed,

a rapid pulse

beating

beneath your lips,

my scent

an invading army

upon your senses;

an invocation of your need.

.

Wrists,

pale and vulnerable,

soft skin

reddened by your attentions;

the burn left

showing desire’s path

and my destruction.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.


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And the rains came

A year has passed

since that August morn,

yet it feels like yesterday.

A day beginning like every other day,

only it wasn’t.

I woke, alone,

at peace with the silence and soft

entrance to the day.

I lay there, thinking,

contemplating the end;

twenty-three years of a life

accompanied but not shared.

A half-life,

existing,

stasis all I knew.

A single day bringing all that to an end.

Changes would mount, swiftly,

a hurricane gathering shape

and strength

offshore.

I girded myself for the storm,

open arms and an upturned face

waiting

for the rains to come.

A stinging kiss to remind me

I am alive.

Transformation found in droplet

and deluge

alike.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph by Lynne Gee via Flickr


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Out takes

I want to take a moment to thank all my wonderful followers and readers. When I created this blog back in 2014, I never anticipated it would grow as it did; I just wanted a place to share what I was feeling, thinking, and seeing in my mind’s eye.

Recently I have begun to write pieces that reflect the many changes my life has undergone. To date I have published two of them on Medium magazine, found online.

The links below will take you to each piece, a short read. I hope you enjoy.

Thank you again for your wonderful support.

C

Navigating the world in sound bites 

Bittersweet Identity

 

View at Medium.com

View at Medium.com

View at Medium.com


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Saturday storms

It’s raining, a drink of water after parched days. The ground was littered with odd drops,  scattered randomly, before the thunder came and the heavens opened.

The rain always stops me in my tracks. I wait. I watch. I wonder. And my heart aches with some unfathomable feeling that soaks me to my core with a haunting want.

He is the one I think of when the rain falls, shattering itself upon the pavement. A Saturday morning with nothing but the sound of rain, and thunder in the distance. It’s always him I think of  — sitting end to end on a couch, reading. Or, notebooks open upon laps, jotting down something that comes to us, dialogue or a poem. I think of laying in his arms, just listening to the rain, not saying a word. I think of the intimacy of the moment and how completely I want that. I think of how this will never come to pass.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Pinterest, original source unknown.