Peel

A lazy summer day.

The sound of the surf rushing the sand

gulls squawking

and the sun beginning to sink upon the horizon

its brilliant colours spectacular in the sky.

Your touch upon me is soft but burning.

It ignites my desire

as your touches always do.

Your finger trails the length of my body

from shoulder to knee

and back.

I shiver in delight.

You finger the strings on my bathing suit

idly toying with them

watching me

as you do.

I hold my breath in anticipation.

You lean over me

kissing my forehead

my cheeks

my lips.

And then

very slowly

so slowly I think I will go out of my mind

you peel away my bathing suit

tawny skin giving way to alabaster

and find me pale and trembling

underneath your fingers.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photograph taken from Vogue

Betwixt and between

I find you

betwixt and between my thoughts, 

a marker in a book I wish to remember.

My eyes

lingering upon our page

as murmurs,

sweet upon my tongue,

become an invocation

of memory

without fail.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest

 

 

The art of drowning

The art of drowning

In plain sight

Perfected over time

Nary a ripple left upon the day

No hint of her tempest tossed soul

As thoughts became darker

Instead, fathoms deep she went

Each time

Farther than the last

Taking a breath

Seeing how long it lasted

Pushing herself past her fears

Wanting no choice

But to lose herself

In that dark place

That promised light

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest

 

Pulse

Click here for audio

It’s the whisper

of dark cravings

a licentious desire

stirred

this wildness

and abandon

that you have awakened

within me

will not quieten

and with every word

you finger that pulse

that throbs for you.

:

©SirenSong1208 – 2016

Photograph taken from Tumblr

Not a girl of summer

I am not a girl of Summer

though the sea runs through my veins

and I would happily swim from dawn to dusk.

I am not a Coppertone baby with flowing yellow hair

golden strands gleaming in the sun

a perfection of tan skin and white smiles.

I am a girl of Autumn, of Winter

burnished leaves and snowy landscapes 

my favourite haunts

books and fires and sweaters and long walks 

my pleasures.

I am the pale girl

with hair the brown of a sable coat

soft and rich and full of depth.

But it is when its copper threads catch the sun

unexpectedly 

that you get a hint of 

the fiery and passionate nature

oft hidden 

revealed to very few

known only to one

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208

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Scent of forever

Ireland, June 2016

Though I am captivated by it’s rolling hills

verdant knolls in varied shades of luxuriant green

where there is history under every footfall

it is the sound of the ocean’s crash beyond me

and the scent of forever on the wind

that enthrals me

that rejuvenates my soul

and I exhale with longing

to always be this close

to my beloved sea.

:

*The longing for the sea is a constant, never ebbing.

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photographs taken by SirenSong1208

Confession

I give my confessions

to him.

In all honesty.

In complete acceptance.

Words spoken like an Act of Contrition

as I unveil my sins.

Sometimes singularly

and slowly

other times in tangled narratives

given in a rush of spleen

as I peel away the last vestiges of false image.

A veneer so sweet it made my teeth ache.

The insistence of honey over vinegar

made more palatable by convention.

The spicy, savoury, and sometimes sour

oft disdained,

a whisky burn

not for the faint of heart.

:

©SirenSong1208 – 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest

Words become gravestones

Words become gravestones

To memories

A cemetery never visited

The flowers wilted upon the grave

Of forgotten love

Silence

A grey mist that saturates

Emotions sealed up

In a casket

Lined with what could have been’s

As muffled lamentations

Fill the air

:

©SirenSong1208 – 2017

Photograph by SirenSong1208

All of those things

Click here for audio

It is all of those things

unsaid

that whisper in our ears

softly

but felt as though shouted.

.

It is all of those things

wanted

desired

that we push

out of reach

out of sight.

.

It is all of those things

that fire our blood

that make us

instinctively

think

fantasize

of one person.

.

It is all of those things

that we pretend

don’t matter

when they do.

:

©SirenSong1208 – 2016

Photography by Elnaz Abedi

Wrists

Wrists

Touched

With tender fingers

Upon sensitive skin

A provocation

An awakening

Of feral need

.

Wrists

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

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest