Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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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.

 


10 Comments

I dream of your hands

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I dream of your hands

tangled like need

in my hair

as I breathe you in.

.

I dream of your hands

finding every curve and line

touching them

molding them to your palms

like a sculptor.

.

I dream of your hands

covering every inch of my skin

a blistering caress

that ignites my own fire.

.

I dream of your hands

making my body sing

with a touch, a grasp

that tells me I am yours

my song for your ears only.

.

I dream of your hands

and my own hands

become your proxy.

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced


2 Comments

Undertow

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All along the undertow

I fought for breath

Every tug upon my senses

Pulling me back

Into your tide

The current strong

As strong as my will

My lungs filling

With the taste of memory

Burning with need

Until I surrendered

My thoughts

Struggling no more

Finding freedom

In the embrace

Of your waves

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

“Siren’s last breath”

Photographer Steven Kowalski; Model Lauren Roth


15 Comments

Wrists

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Wrists

Touched

With tender fingers

Upon sensitive skin

A provocation

An awakening

Of feral need

.

Wrists

Held

Within a manacle

Of your will

Pinned

And possessed

For pleasure

.

Wrists

Kissed

A rapid pulse

Beating

Beneath your lips

My scent

An invading army

Upon your senses

An invocation

Of your need

.

Wrists

Pale and vulnerable

Soft skin

Reddened

By your attentions

The burn left

Showing desire’s path

And my destruction

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.

 


4 Comments

Devour

I would devour every moment

With gusto

Wiping my hand across my mouth

Like a heathen

My eyes bright

With sublime satisfaction

Ready for more

I don’t care if it’s sloppy

Without eloquence

I want to partake

In all manner

Civil

Or not

This feral need

Bursting at the seams

A blistering anticipation

For my senses

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced


3 Comments

Kiss the dawn

Kiss the dawn

With lips that have felt midnight’s caress

Dreams laden

With the press of his thoughts

Like hot skin upon mine

Molten with need

Unmet

His breath

Rent with my own

As greed is built

With every hour of darkness

That we allow the restraints of day

To melt away

And we fall into each other’s arms

:

Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced


1 Comment

Ripe

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She is ripe,

for his hands

for his mouth.

She is the desirable fruit

he hungers for,

her scent intoxicating him

beckoning forth his touch.

Her essence is nectar to his mouth

and one that he will savor every bite of,

his senses alive to her taste

as it lays succulent upon his tongue

subduing the ravenous beast

within.

:

Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced