She wants to fall into him,
To lose herself in the feel of his lips,
In his scent,
In the way his stubble scrapes across her skin when he tastes her.
She wants to be surrounded by him,
cocooned in his warmth,
On ever plain of their them-ness.
She wants to be taken by him,
made to feel more essential that air,
To know that she alone inspires the wanton that stoked the fire in his eyes.
the muse of his moans, his Persephone.
She wants to know him,
To be that kind of intimate it is so easy to be in the absence of love.
She wants to be wanted,
To encompass and enfold him within herself,
Want to metamorphose into this new being,
By being herself within him, while he occupies her.
She want to be owned.
Unmistakably, uninhibitedly claimed,
In word and action in a way that is…
Unrevokable.
It’s a tragic destitution to want so much.
To be so without center, insufficient, alone.
But oh what poetry to find that merging,
To have faith so richly rewarded,
To be so treasured.
She simply wants all of him.
April 21st, 2017 at 11:31 pm
You’re so good at this kind of poetry that for a moment I almost believed I’d felt that way myself. I don’t think I have. Maybe I should cry for what I missed out on, but I’m not sad. Although love was different for me, it was still intense.
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April 22nd, 2017 at 12:12 am
Sounds like my girl there should be envious. Seems you have an honest kind of love. Not the kind that incites that kind of longing or the uncertainty that it might be unrequited. You have what she longs for.
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April 22nd, 2017 at 3:54 pm
That’s an interesting response. I gave up the man I loved forty years ago. It was the right thing to do, as I knew he could have greater happiness away from me. Few women would envy me, but I think I’m lucky to have known such love. Even now, it sustains me in difficult times. I have no regrets.
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April 22nd, 2017 at 12:47 am
I love the art and I love the poem
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April 24th, 2017 at 9:41 pm
Thank you.
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April 24th, 2017 at 7:06 pm
Whoa, Michelle! That is about a million kinds of awesome! Love these lines:
It’s a tragic destitution to want so much.
To be so without center, insufficient, alone.
Could really FEEL that. How many of us have been in that place… Would you mind if I copy this into my Poems from Middle-Earth and Vicinity journal. That’s where I keep the poetry of my friends.
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April 24th, 2017 at 9:41 pm
Thank you, of course you can.
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March 31st, 2018 at 3:40 am
Such a deep romantic poem and sex bomb girl making virile of nerves 🙂
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