Siren Whispers

Siren Song


With every breath


It starts slow —

tentative touch


with color across your skin.

Like a meadow in summer,

thoughts that meander

gradually becoming

a steady hum

as he takes up residence.

A delicious


whenever you happen upon him

coursing through your veins,

pulsing beneath your skin.

Not simply desire

or respect

nor even tender regard,

but an


to him

and to yourself.

With every breath.


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208


A siren’s fairytale


This girl

never stops imagining.

Heroes and heroines

bitter foils and happy endings.

A knight in shining armor to save the day

or the one to put me in peril.


Wend your way through this rough thicket of life

The vines and thorns that bedevil the path

To find me

Rose red in slumber

Needing your touch to bloom

A kiss to awaken me

To glorious possibility

Or perhaps

I just need you to be the wolf in the woods

Seeking this Red’s tender neck

To bite


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph by Lindsay Steele, Model: Courtney Alexis Cameron




You never forget the first touch

nothing you had known before

could compare,

a connection felt

beyond skin

down to your bones

a fire

an intensity

continuing to build

every moment

leaving you breathless,

on fire

until you became

a wildfire

and he,

the arsonist

setting your edges ablaze

standing back, watching

you burn


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced




Click here for audio

My words

a tender, sensual confessional.


given on my knees.

Bound by need and want

I look to you for sublime absolution.

Sooty lashes lay upon my pale cheeks.

My mind awhirl with thoughts

as I wait

for the touch of your fingers

lifting my chin

my eyes following.

To see my sin


within your eyes.


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph by Roberto Gioli

Leave a comment



Click here for audio.


is not expensive presents

or lavish flowery words.

It’s not a bouquet of roses

or elaborate dates.

It is the little things

that resonate with her,

that make her swoon

just a bit more,

as she allows you to become closer. 

It is questions asked

that show you’ve been listening to her

and a gaze that misses nothing,

holding and heating her skin

with its intensity. 

It is the slight touch of fingers

when you’re looking elsewhere


but still connected.

It is sitting end to end on a couch


silent but aware of each other.

It is your hand on the small of her back

guiding her

not because she needs you to

but because you can’t not touch her.

Romance is time given

when time is short.

A five minute touch to remind her

that she is in your thoughts as you are in hers.

Romance is what’s real

not fantasy

and there is nothing more real

than seeing her

and letting her see you.


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Black Swan Dive

Leave a comment



No longer unstrung,

but wound tight

with exhilaration and desire,

she waits

with bated breath

for the first touch

of his bow,

the press of his fingers

coaxing a song from her

…just for him.


Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken by W. Jrazeq


Persuade me

Persuade me

that I am the same…

that the threads

catching the wind

are not my soul


at your touch

that it was but a dream…


Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Artwork by Brooke Shaden, ‘The Falling of Autumn Darkness’