Friday, June 10, 2011

To My Lady Gaia

this is a brief peice I was scribbling out this afternoon on my break. Its silly, and trite. Not very good. But considering I whipped it out in 15 minutes and I was also trying to talk to my co-workers, eat something and sort out a smoke break in all that...I'm not too disappointed. Its romantic, but not terribly erotic. I'll write something of use tomorrow. I swear.


Her hair shines silver, gold and bronze in the moonlight, casting a soft hazy halo around her as she gazes up at me. Her eyes glimmer, two brilliant stars sparkling up at me with mystery and allure of the ages. The desire to touch her, to stroke her, wells up inside me. The urge is irresistible. To touch her, to feel the soft silk of her skin, to caress heaven itself- it is unbearably beautiful.

Her laying beneath me is like a state of grace- too beautiful to express, to awful to escape. Perfection- that is what she is in this moment. Just below me- eyes glowing, skin shining, lips parted. Her breath is better than air to me. I want to breathe her in, to taste her until my mind clouds over and I am dizzy and weak with the flavor of her. Her lips are soft and pale pink, rich cotton candy that melts below my tongue. She is sweet, so sweet. Her gentle press, her tender bites are my delight. She laves me breathless and aching. I am thirsty for her as I become warmer. She is hot, so terribly warm, as we dance together in the coming and going of our passion.

I melt for her, I burn to ashes under the brilliance of her glimmer. The heat of her skin is the early morning sun in the summer. It dances along my body, teasing and tempting me- drawing me further into its warmth. Brilliant, gentle and enticing, I let it lead me along the soft winding paths of her body. Each curve is has a suprise waiting for me, each turn, each kiss is a cool breeze filling and refreshing me.

My fingers trace the lines of her body, each bone and curve and soft flowing plain and I see the whole world.

No comments:

Post a Comment