Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Darken my dreams

Darken my dreams

With thoughts that belie my innocence

Which leave me twisted

And tangled

Amid dawn’s heated sheets

Shipwrecked upon the rocks

Of desire

Shuddering with unspeakable pleasure

As I relive each dark and dangerous delight

My imagination and your touch

Has created

Within the night’s dance

With the moon

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from the internet, original provenance unknown.


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Assuage

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With

your fingers

your lips

your tongue

fulfil the promise

in your words.

Assuage the ache

crafted hour upon hour

that permeates me

from skin to soul.

That makes me 

wet

with your wild.

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from the internet. Original provenance unknown.


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She is a dreamer

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She is a dreamer.

There have been times that she’s been accused of having her head in the clouds

of not focusing on the here and now

of getting lost in the future…

in what could be

in what she could do

in what she could be.

And there is always someone wanting to pull her back down

to terra firma

to try to get her to be more practical

more logical.

Always someone telling her that she’s an adult

that dreams are for children

that as an adult she must be more responsible

and focused on reality.

But while she is perfectly capable of being those things

she finds that her soul takes flight

that her wings spread

that she feels the most joyful

and free

when she can run after those dreams

full tilt

with everything that she has

to try and make them a reality.

The dreams that we have and how we approach them

often give a tantalizing glimpse of who we are

and what really matters to us

and

after all

dreams are not just for children.

:

*This is not new but remains relevant so here it is again…

©SirenSong1208

Double exposure print taken from Pinterest


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Feast

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This delicious connection

a delightful dance

of matched words and desires.

This slow dance

of wanton thoughts

tangoing through our minds

has us pressing our bodies close

our breath mingling

our desires

aligned.

Our words 

a banquet.

A veritable feast for our senses

always dousing us in arousal

but never slaking our thirst.

Always keeping us

on the edge

of hunger.

:

©SirenSong1208

Artwork by Pedro Alvarez


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Plunder

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My body awaits your plunder.

Every treasure

meant for only your eyes.

Meant only

for you.

The feel of your tongue

the taste

the flick

the lick

soft and slow

devouring me

but never sating your hunger.

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Pinterest, original provenance unknown.


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Believer

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I will be your Joan of Arc

in visions of holy devotion

and divine worship.

As you lay siege

to my mind

my body

and to my soul

I will bring truth to your words.

I will illuminate the darkness

as I burn for you. 

I will make you a believer.

:

*Written last year after finding the picture seen above. Sometimes pieces almost write themselves.

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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She is red lace

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She is all curves and soft skin.

A dark tempest of hair

and eyes the color of a stormy sea.

She is red lace

against pale skin,

chaste yet wanton.

The juxtaposition

of innocence and sin.

Good girl and bad girl.

A contrast that

bewitches him

beguiles him

and entices him

to unravel the enigma

that is her.

:

*Not a new post but something reminded me of it so here it is again.

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken by sirensong1208


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Lawlessness

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There is a feeling of lawlessness within her.

Tinder awaiting the strike of the match.

A riot of anticipation that begins with him.

Each day cuts her with sharp shivers along every inch of skin.

She is alert and aroused

every blink of her eyes refreshes the picture of him

every breath brings the taste

the scent of him

to her

ravaging her senses.

Images of them become a continuous loop of erotic film 

within her mind

as she replays

incessantly

hundreds of scenarios

each one causing her

to close her eyes

to still her breath

to control the rebelliousness of her body

as it becomes traitor to modesty

as the wanton within

begins to dance.

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Tumblr


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Labyrinth of Beauty

I adore this…

Midwest Fantasy Writes

via Daily Prompt: Pattern

eye

Intricate

beyond his comprehension

subtle complexity

tangled emotions

labyrinth of thoughts

all wrapped in beauty

woman in every manner

too complicated to understand

too exquisite not to love

©MidwestFantasy

03/11/2017

Ph| flickr.com 

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Wax

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She can hardly breathe. 

With the flutter of nerves

And excitement

She is blind to all but her own thoughts.

The room is silent

But for the scratching sound of the match

Her senses are heightened

Sight and movement taken

The rich smell of leather permeates the air

She feels the comforting weight

Around her neck

Around her wrists and ankles

She knows what is to come

Yet not when.

He is a quiet presence

Watching her

Waiting for the right moment

Pleased with the sight of her

Cuffed and roped

Here for his pleasure

And hers

 

The first drops hit her bare skin

The burning pain

Melding into an ache

She feels down into her core

Drop after drop falls

Without end

The wax drips down her breasts

Beading upon her nipples

Dripping further upon her belly

Upon her thighs

Upon her sex

She is twisting her body to evade the wax

But without sight

Without the ability to move fully

She is powerless

The pain makes her whimper, despite herself

Tears well in her eyes

Pain and pleasure

Creating an unfamiliar feeling within her.

Knowing it arouses him

This suffering she endures

Knowing she’s pleased him

This excites her

Makes her hungry for him.

The drops continue to fall

Faster now

Each drop hotter

More painful than the last

She lets go

Stops thinking

As she falls into the pain

As drop after drop falls

All she can think of is him.

Silence

The wax no longer drips

Her pain starts to recede

The blindfold is removed

She feels the ghost of his touch

Lightly over the wax

Thumbing the encased nipple

And further down to spread her thighs

She watches as he looks at his handiwork

The wax itself is like a work of art

He kneels between her thighs

His fingers

His tongue

Dancing upon fevered flesh

Soothing and stimulating

And just as she slips over the edge

Into the abyss

He thrusts into her

Their pleasure delicious

The moment transcendent

:

*This is not a new post. Blogged first two years ago and again last year it is one of my favourites so I beg your indulgence once again.

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Pinterest