Lust

Droplets of desire ooze from within.
Those eyes speak of those untold things that only the wildest mind can imagine.
That aroma pervades all senses, numbing the mind from everything…yet, setting it on fire!
Tied down, the body craves to be touched…no…raked.
Pleading…even begging.
Whimpers of longing erupt from the throat, breaking free from the dam of constraint.
Beads of sweat form in anticipation…yearning to be satiated from this feeling churning inside.
The body writhes and squirms in want of fulfillment.
…She moans.

But He doesn’t come.

A Walk in the Parlour

The pattern turns blue, the pattern turns green;
Yet the pattern cannot be seen.
In the bright sunlight, the spider’s web gleams,
Swaying softly, like that elusive dream.

An outline of moisture, strung together like beads,
Waiting to be touched, waiting to be seen.
Hypnosis and desire get the better of me,
I fly towards my pattern, reaching for it in glee.

I lay there entangled, trapped in its hold,
Struggling in vain, for a miracle to unfold.
My elusive dream is gone, in its place lies me.
Waiting in dread, for my soul to be set free.