Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Dark intention

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The night is good at keeping secrets

Wishful thoughts and lustful want

Confessed to the moon

By lovers out of reach

Proximity to touch forbidden

By circumstance

But in the haven of the midnight hour

Our dreams become laced

With a touch of sin

Every dark intention

Manifesting itself

With the silhouette

Of the one we yearn for

As we let our pent up

Burning desire

Run as wild as a mustang

Across the plains

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced

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Her song

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It is her secret fantasy…

In an intimate club she takes the stage.

Dressed in a long sheath which clings to every curve

and caresses her every movement

she is cooly elegant

in a dress that belies the smoulder in her eyes.

Her dark hair falls in glossy waves about her shoulders

and her lips are ruby red.

She sings ballads of star crossed lovers

and of tortured passion.

The audience becomes enraptured with her voice

as every seductive verse is drawn out

every word, whisper, sigh

imbued with emotion.

She loses herself in the lyrics

feeling every word

living them there on the stage.

Singing them to the one who feels them

with her.

Her audience of one.

The only man she has eyes for.

Her song

for him.

:

*This is not new. It was written and posted last year but I was reminded of it recently and hope that long time readers will indulge me with another outing.

©SirenSong1208

Photograph of the talented actress Emily Blunt, original source unknown.


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Coppery want

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Taste the hunger in the night

black as coal

unforgiving in its depth

this wicked intent reigns supreme

as hands grip and fingers rake the length of me

nails leaving pretty pink tracks

laced with red

draw blood love

and taste my lust

coppery want that begs for more

and lips that will only be silenced with yours

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph by Bogna Patrycja Altman


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The first face

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She was the first face I saw.

I fell in love

But didn’t know it.

Those hazel eyes gazing down at me

Soothing my abrupt entrance

Into a much colder world

Than the one I had existed in

For months.

I quickly came to realize

That she was my world.

Her beloved countenance

Changing over the years

But always

Full of love

Full of pride.

She has been

My teacher

My cheerleader

My taskmaster

My confidante.

Providing an example

Of what to strive for

Being supportive of the choices I made

Even ones that she knew would hurt me

Assuring me

That kindness doesn’t make one weak

And always making it clear

That the world was my oyster

That I alone could make my world

What I wished it to be.

I have been so lucky

To have had such a wonderful person

To guide my days

To know unconditional love and acceptance.

Recently I was reminded of a song

That was always hers and mine.

My mother

My friend.

You and me against the world.

A mother’s love

A sacred thing.

:

*This is not the first nor even the second time I’ve posted this but on this day, the birthday of the most amazing and loving person that I know, I felt it fitting.

©SirenSong1208

Photo taken from Pinterest, unsourced


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Sin

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Can I be truly repentant

As I atone for my transgressions

If I adored each step

Into darkness

And would again embrace

With delight

Would allow myself

To savor

Once more

The sin

That is you

…Ravenous for the sin

For the darkness

For you

My hunger outstrips any need

For penance

My only need

Confession

Under your hands

Under you

My body spilling its secrets

In every sigh, gasp and moan

Expiation of sin

Was never more

Delicious

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from WhiteNoten


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Slow fire

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An unexpected spark

And then

A slow fire

Becoming

A steady, constant burn

One whose flame

Cannot be extinguished

By simple wind or rain

Cold affects it not

A monsoon would be needed

Just to make it flicker

:

©SirenSong1208 ~

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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Purr

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She tries to move but cannot.

Her arms are above her head, bound.

She can feel the warmth of her skin on either side of her face.

She can smell the faint aroma of her perfume.

Along with this fragrance is the scent of her arousal

becoming stronger

as she waits.

The blindfold lets in no light.

She does not know where he is

or what he will do first.

But she knows,

oh yes she knows,

that he will do what he wants

when he wants.

 She tries again.

Giving a small tug on her wrists.

Checking the restraints.

Cuffed and roped to the bed frame

the slip slide of rope against metal

Unforgiving.

Unrelenting.

She sighs and stops.

She stretches her body

feeling the sheets under her

her skin sensitive to any touch.

She is alert for any sign of him

her body vibrating with anticipation.

Knowing she is his instrument for the day

and like any musician

he will play her over and over again

perfecting

chords

melodies.

He will make her sing

in her purest voice.

Her song.

For him.

Only him.

:

He’s still and silent.

Watching her.

Watching her face

as emotions, reactions flit across her features.

Wondering at her thoughts.

He’s restrained only her arms

wanting her legs free.

He watches as she tugs at the cuffs

smiling slightly as he knows they are secure

and her efforts are in vain.

Thinking of his plans for the day.

He observes her body.

Long, soft, supple naked skin

breathtaking curves

her nipples eager and erect

begging to be

teased

tortured

tasted.

Her sex

deliciously wet.

Of that he is sure.

He hears her sigh

and gazes at her as she stretches

her chest rising off of the bed

followed by the undulation of belly and hips

her legs lengthening

her toes pointed.

He likes to watch her stretch.

She’s like a cat

and he’s getting ready to make her purr.

:

*This is not a new post but it is a favorite longer piece of mine first posted a couple of years ago. I hope the reader will not mind indulging me.

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2015

Photograph taken from Tumblr