Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Wanting what you don’t have

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Wanting what you don’t have.

Is life meant to be a series of dreams that never become reality, possibility that never reaches fruition?

There is an impatience that builds once you get a taste of what sets your soul, your senses, on fire. You want it all. Yesterday. You look again and you see the obstacles and a path that lays ahead, and it seems endless. How hard it is to keep believing that you might one day set foot on that path. That one day the emptiness that has echoed inside of you will be quieted. You feel so far away from what you need, yet you try every day to persist, to put one foot in front of the other. 

Wanting what you don’t have.

Is this so wrong? You’re told to be happy with what you do have, but what if what you do have doesn’t fill you up? What if you know that there is more to life than simply existing? What if you want that so desperately…your eyes finally opened…as you recognize the shallow breaths you’ve been taking, and all you want is to breathe deeply and become more and have more than ever before…

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken by SirenSong1208

 


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As fading lust of days gone by

becomes fallow earth

in the meadow of my soul

you plague me with fervent dreams

ripe with blissful needs

the seeds you sow

with each touch

with every word

becoming the harvest

I reap

with abundance

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208


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He reads her

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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 that haunts her dreams?

He reads her

and wonders…

and wants it to be so…

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.


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Empty

There is silence,

so much silence.

Arms are empty,

as darkness settles upon us.

Days.

Nights.

Opaque.

There is no clarity,

only confusion and a deep sense

of grief.

The dreams I had have died,

long ago perhaps,

but I did not wish to believe it.

But now,

in the wake of things we still cannot comprehend,

there is pain

more loss

and a sense of two

who should be holding each other up

through the crashing waves

but who are adrift on this unknown sea

separately navigating each stormy swell

desperately seeking landfall

and an embrace that tells us

we are home.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

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Art by Victor Bauer


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Linger

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it is symbiotic

this need

giving and taking

letting desires unfurl naturally

without agenda or design

words left to linger in thoughts

accelerant to dreams

where lust is rough

and thorough

as he bends me over his desk

my dress bunched up around my waist

his hand upon the small of my back

I feel the press of the wood against my belly

and the press of him against my thighs

my body is on fire

every nerve ending alive and firing

there is tenderness

but in moments such as these

when need is raw and powerful

he shows me just how he craves me

what he can give me

and with it

how my body aches

for all that he is

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced


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Heated

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The cool quiet of this winter night

is heated

by thoughts of you.

This night

becomes one with the darkest of dreams.

Conjuring you up

over the miles

to show me what true possession feels like.

Dark imaginings of your skin pressed to mine

the play of your fingers

across my breasts

my belly

my thighs.

All of this

poured into decadent dreams

as desire saturates my mind.

A kaleidoscope of passion.  

I am breathless with every thought I can summon.

Thoughts that become fantasies that become dreams

that are dark and dangerous and daring.

Full of delicious promise

that makes my skin dance

and my body tremble

with the heat of my arousal.

Dreams so real, so vivid

that I can feel the ridges and whirls 

of your fingerprints

left across every inch of sacred flesh

and your scent

clinging to my skin as I wake

intoxicating me

anew.

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©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced


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Winter goddess

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He dreams of pure white flakes

in the dark storm of her hair.

Of laughing eyes

and cheeks pink from the cold.

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He dreams of peeling off her clothes

and of laying her down

in the snow.

Of watching her shiver

before running his finger down the length of her

her eyes locked upon his

her body arching to his fingers

before covering her shivering body

with his heat

with his hands

with his mouth.

.

He dreams of her

his winter goddess.

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©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photograph by Esmahan Ozkan