Nestled in the crevices of my mind, Behind all that is real and sublime.
Time slows down in the fading embraces, chances lost and found in between the sheets, in glimpses of past dreams.
Passion, Obsessions, Connections open to interpretation.
Lessons learned, hearts burned, bodies yearn for touch earned. Fingers learn to feel again, lost on the cacophony of explosions at dawn.
Night time stories told on the inches of skin, revealing the softness and harshness within, and giving me an internal battle I won’t ever win.
Liquid courage and sin. Loving the skin I’m in.
Letting your touch take my shape in between these sips of gin, like poison.
You grin hiding the pain and longing for something real, I (we) steal these folds of fabric to cover the passion within.
And then quiet again.
And this feeling of loss again.
while the blue skies & pink shades cascade through my mind again.
This time is just for fun. I tell myself.
Nestled in the crevices of my mind,
Sublime caresses, as I undress my soul one orgasm at a time.
Cheap wine running through my veins coveting time.
Switching my brain off to the past pains, and enjoying long embraces as I untangle my mind.
Talking in tongues, letting you in my garden where sacred spaces take shape, as you have decided to mold me, hold me close to the fire within.
This time it’s for real.
One thought on “Bedtime Stories”
Eleana, wonderful and poignantly erotic.
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