Thursday, February 3, 2011

Creature Lover




I feel as if I am in a masquerade, I care not what face is behind the mask, only the smile that you have left for me to see. I love your mystery, whoever you are, sweet lover.

I see you, I crave you, tender, lithe thing; yet unveil your passion and vitality. You are my little creature.

I think I'm in love with everyone. Tell me you agree…the rapture of your soul belongs to me.

I feel like making those pretty eyes look away – checking to be sure that we’re alone, to see those cheeks flush with the words I whisper to your diamond-studded ears.

Give me ecstasy, sweet angel. Laugh like no one else can, show me your pretty doe eyes, play coy because you know I like it. See these lips of mine? They are yours if you wish.

Do you want to come with me? Don't you want to feel my skin on your skin...it's only nature. Skin upon skin, lips upon lips, tongue upon tongue, the touch of a woman, bestowed upon another, man or woman, as sacred as anything that has or has yet to happen.

It matters not what is done, so long it is done with feeling, that which gives everything importance.

I am awake for you, and all I need is music and kisses, and you wrapped about me, like two puzzle pieces, and our lips are no exception...and our fingers in how they fit so perfectly, clasped, entwined.

I love the way you’re alive. Teach me, give me that magic, love me. Unlock the world that is a shadow, blooming into splendor that I never thought to see.

Be my little Rage Monster, we do bad things, but we do wonderful things. Try to tell me they’re not the same..make me just a little angry…pull my hair with those elegant hands and show me your heart.

Because, for us, feeling any emotion at all is reason to celebrate. Be my lover, shall we share the feeling? Smile, my beloved, for you know the way I love you is not like any other. Do I deserve the love-sounds that echo from your sweet lips?

A vision of our tangled hair, sparkling eyes, slightly smudged red that we so carefully applied to the teasing tilt of those lips I so crave. Hungry lips, ripe and full with the desire you inspire inside of me. Yearning, I pull you towards me. Deny me not, your world will deepen and spin when you are mine.

Curious eyes, those that so match my own; yearning to explore those things so forbidden. Swimming with a desire to recognize one’s own self in one such as me…In another, beautiful, sensual, playful creature.

How can those eyes turn into bottomless pools of emotion, how can they turn into fiery lustful tools? How can eyes convey more than even words, the aphrodisiac of the mind?

You and I, my darling. We are poetry, alive, breathing poetry. Alive and magical, glowing with discovery and with all things we never imagined.

Write me a story. Singe my pages with fervid emotion, and may the ink flow with the irrepricable beauty of this love. Your hands are the quill, your lips –the ink well. Write me a story with your body.

This beauty will be something of such ardor, such fervor, that all else will melt away and two beings will be left only with the fierceness and virtue of seeing that radiant creature in themselves, and in another.

Elle, Alyssa

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Rapture...truly. Go us.

Elle Bugman said...

in love with us, and our work :)