Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Dripping secrets

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Midnight blue ink

an extension of her soul

dripping secrets

from her fingers

her pen spoke louder

than her voice

with a whisper he moved

closer

to hear, her sweet accent

echoing

within the chambers of his heart

with words

that gave voice

to unspoken desires

intimacy

in simple things

he found the key

to unlock 

what had been imprisoned

within his soul

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.


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Sunday confessions, toi

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.

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.

 


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Learning

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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 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 along with 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.

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced


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Every moment

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It defies explanation or definition

yet persists

days when it is there, quietly

sitting in the corner

waiting to speak,

other times

words filling me

with a rush –

images vivid in tone and texture

what is it that calls my pen to action

my being to yearning –

it is a restless, palpable electricity

all shivering limbs

and hushed desires

a longing that speaks without words

we watch each other

as if we are taking

a long drink of ice-cold water

on a scorching day

it’s how it feels

when you are about to taste something

for the first time

that wondrous expectancy

a feeling so delicious

you can’t wait for it to start

yet want to draw it out

every moment imbued

with import

and every confidence

that your world

is about to be

rocked

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.

 

 


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Abandoned breaths

I stopped counting

the heartbeats

that raced on ahead of me

whenever

I’d see your name

we’d talk

or touch.

I thought that over time

I’d become inured

to your effect

yet here we are

and every time is like

the first time

the crackle of electricity

between us

growling louder

heat rising as

along with my reason

I’ve abandoned breaths

when you are near.

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.


2 Comments

He reads her

He reads her and wonders: Is it his name written between the lines?

.

Could he be the one, 

her eloquent distraction

the frisson along her spine

the fire within her

tangled sheets

the heat

between her thighs

 .

Could he be the one,

the smile that appears 

when no one is looking

a secret she keeps

close to her

.

Is it his face haunting her dreams?

.

He reads her

and wonders

and wants it to be so

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.


13 Comments

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

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced