Siren Whispers

Siren Song



Sunday confession

your hands slide up my thighs

silken webs woven

with desire

fingers finding

lace and soft

skin to stroke

breath and sighs, ascending

a fevered crescendo


upon your lap


curious, heat

lips and breath

tangled cries

finding religion, deep

within these stolen moments


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced.

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That book


You would be the book I would savor.

The cover only hinting at the contents;

my curiosity aroused

by the suggestion of what lay inside.

My attention held from those first moments.

A word

a description

would catch my eye

leaving me to think that this was no ordinary book.

Neither formulaic nor predictable,

but rather something unique

and rare.

Something searched for,

knowing it when found.

Modestly bound,

this book would be full of depth.

unmet fire,


Feeling the connection


I would pore over each page


my fingers sliding along text and image

heat rising along each curve

my pulse

beginning to race

imagination flaring.

The story touching me,

arousing me,

inducing me to read

well into the night.

Ravenous for every word.

Enthralled with my discovery.

But though impatient to reach the end

I would restrain myself from glancing at the final page.

Knowing the journey through those pages,

reading every line

knowing every chapter

would be worth it.

To know the story,

the man,

in his entirety.


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Tumblr; original provenance unknown


The way she falls

She was a discovery waiting to happen

The moment he saw her he knew

Evocative of the unexpected scene you come upon

As you wander an unknown path

The eyes widening just a bit

The smile flirting at the edges of your mouth

Something to enrich your senses

To take your breath

And oh how he wanted to get lost

Lost in the way she falls

And in the way he catches her


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208


Promise and possibility


Floods the landscape of my thoughts

My soul


By promise and possibility

With a current so strong

In connection

It creates a tumult

Within me

Diminishing my resolve

My walls



Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.




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He takes my measure

Every time he meddles

With my boundaries

The seas within my soul

A dark and deep place

That not all wish to explore

With twisting currents

That are forbidding to all

But the most heartened

He who rides the waves 

And plumbs those depths

With courage

Is he who I seek


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208


Library boy


Once upon a time things were simpler.


Life is different now.


I think of you and an image forms in my mind.

Library boy.

You would have been that boy alone at the library table.

A stack of carefully chosen books in front of him.

I would have noticed you from across the room,

my own stack of carefully chosen books in a semicircle before me.

A fortress to hide behind.

A way to see without being seen.

I would lose myself in the silence that was the rule and which I breathed in with great

greedy gulps.

I would have noticed you in much the same way you become aware of the other lone

person in a cinema.

Watching a last run film and laughing at the same parts.


I would have been shy, never speaking to you or making eye contact,

but wanting so much to talk to you

to get your attention.

I would have made trips to the stacks, ostensibly to find a book, though I clearly had

enough to occupy me.

I would have felt you watching me as I walked past you to use the card catalog.

You aware of me.

Me aware of you.

With every step.

Feeling your interest as I shuffled through the cards.

Not reading them.

Not even seeing them.

My face flushed.

My heart thumping out of my chest.

Willing this solitary boy to be as interested in me

as I was in him.


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced