Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Ichor of desire

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She looked levelly at him

‘this can be yours’, she said,

the plum kiss of her glistening lips a distraction from the words.

Still, he heard them and heeded their plea

the ichor of desire pumping hard and fast through his veins

ringing in his ears

a rushing river of carnal thoughts.

One look at her

and he could clearly see

that the shape of his destruction

would be found

in the curve of her sensuality.

:

©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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Caution

Caution is her mantra.

There is nothing quite like losing yourself

in feeling

in desire

in love,

but the path she’s on requires a spine of steel

and an open heart.

It also requires bravery 

in putting herself first.

Walls are created

 brick by brick

and they must come down in the same fashion.

Well, hers must in any case.

A dismantling that is slow,

brick by brick.

Each one replaced

with something she was missing.

Trust

Intimacy

Respect

There will be no rapid pull down of the wall,

à la Berlin,

but rather a slow chipping away at the defenses she erected

to protect her tender heart.

:

©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph by SirenSong1208


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Boundless

I taste the unknown

in your kiss.

It conveys me to places

I can only imagine,

places where I am pliant

underneath your fingertips.

Your touch

hard

soft

unrelenting with passion.

It fuels my hunger 

and my curiosity

to know more

to do more

to be more.

With you,

within this,

a boundless need

has been unleashed.

:

©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken by Jose Miguel

Model: Lauren Nicholas


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Sunday confessions, toi

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I was the sweetest,

the most innocent bad girl

he ever created.

Especially on Sunday.

.

Sinful Sunday.

Soft white skin

and pure white ribbon.

A sensuous tether

to wicked thoughts

and desires

pulled tight by him.

Making me wet and wild.

.

A Sunday prayer.

A single wish

whispered from my lips

that was

purity and sin

interwoven.

.

I am

A body trembling with sinful wants

and a soul aching with innocent need.

.

I sit upon the church pew

modest in dress and demeanour

distracted

by the secrets and sins

that dance within every line

of the poetry I am composing

in my head.

.

You are deeper than skin

greater than sin

absolution is mine

as you touch all the parts of me

that ache for you.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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Cover me with your sin

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Cover me with your sin

Fingers threaded through with mine

Held aloft

Pressed upon soft white sheets

Stark against flesh flushed pink

With arousal

With exertion

.

Cover me with your sin

As you crowd me with your intentions

To spoil

To sate

To initiate

Claiming every dark instinct as your own

As you pin me to the page

Writing your darkest prose

Seeing my response

Under your fingertips

A whorl of darkly inked curves and lines

Entwining with your own

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Tumblr


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Only one voice

‘This is not a funeral,’ she said,

‘though I’m drowning in carnations.’

There are no condolence cards

or whiskey toasts

to memory,

only the sad nod of head

as a story becomes too familiar to all

and an end that happened long ago

becomes the final chapter

in a story that was told

with only one voice.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2018

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced


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Learning

And so it is that even when we are fully grown, well into adulthood, our hearts are still growing and learning.

Learning lessons we never thought we would need to learn, but finding a breath of life in that education, and feeling a youth in that rebirth.

We wonder if we may finally get it right, if we may know, at last, that path we need to traverse. We look for kindred souls, knowing that similarities are what bind us and make us strong, even in tumultuous times. We seek those who we can walk side by side with, not to be led by, but to journey with.

There is a peace that comes with this knowledge as well as a racing of the pulse, as though we are at the starting line, waiting for the gun to go off, and the race to begin.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2018

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced

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