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Thursday, September 4, 2008

Your Sensuality




The size and

Degree of your

Sensuality

It sometimes almost

Frightens me. I feel



Unworthy

Unqualified

Unequipped

To know

This wealth

To receive

This gift

This prick of





Your nipples...


Like two pin-lights

Inside a cosmos

Of skin

As taut, tender, and

Tight as stars.



My God!



Your sensuality

Can almost

Frighten me.

Make me feel

Hard as Diamond

And Yet,

Minute

In The Universe

Of its Largeness…



It’s as if

Your legs

Would stretch

Into a chasm

Deep and Wide

And swallow

My secrets and

Swallow my

Pride...

And gorge my

Insecurities

Whole.



And I

Believe

That sex with

The Soul

Manifests and

Flows into

A slow and

Enduring song.



I believe

Sex

With the skin

Is a physical act

But sex within

The intimacy

Of the soul, unfolds

And floats upon

Erotic sheets of

Poetry… It’s all

Nin & Whitman

Maya & Kerouac and

Zane, Barrett-Browning

Shakespeare and shit!



But I am finally

Ready

To dip

My pen inside

Your whipping

Erotic tide.



But will I

Only drown

When I’m supposed to

Flow?



I never learned

To perfect

That arc

In my dive. Never learned

To swim freely

Against

A rushing tide.

Never learned the righteous

Way to go

Insane, and lose

My mind

Inside of you…



But I am

Ready

To embrace

This newfound

Lunacy...

To close my eyes

And ride

Your wave

To wherever place

It leads…



And so

I go down

With grace

And I go down

Willingly...

Even though

The size and degree

Of your sensuality…

It sometimes

Almost…



Frightens me.







One.



By L.M. Ross

11 comments:

Mizrepresent said...

But oh, what a wonderful journey it will be! Loved it!

D-Place said...

that's how it should be! and hopefully expressing it doesn't cause more insecurities.

QH said...

I like the Anais Nin reference. Wicked.-QH

Keith said...

Love this...I can read this, then close my eyes and be right there in
the middle of something.. This was so visual...and inspiring at the same time. I liked the Anais Nin reference too as well as the Zane reference.

QH said...

Interestin perspective on my SS #11 write-up. The song you mentioned started off the countdown at #15, and you can read about it here: http://qhblend.blogspot.com/2008/08/something-supreme-project-15.html

Read, comment, enjoy, and check out #14, 13, and the remaining one's left. Thanks for your support, and this piece is still fire you have here.-QH

Acoustic Soul said...

Very NICE!

joaquin carvel said...

you paint amazing pictures of the outside and the inside at the same time. i love how languid this piece is, how it takes its time, almost dripping, but never hesitating. beautiful.

Lovebabz said...

Ahh a well crafted erotic peice of prose does wonders for my soul.

My rant is over...sunny skies shine again.

Do come by.

BronzeBuckaroo said...

Wow! and Wow, again!

...And I

Believe

That sex with

The Soul

Manifests and

Flows into

A slow and

Enduring song.



I believe

Sex

With the skin

Is a physical act

But sex within

The intimacy

Of the soul, unfolds

And floats upon

Erotic sheets of

Poetry...


These lines took my breath away. Anyone can have sex with a consentual partner. To me at lease, sex becomes an act of love when the soul is involved. Two souls become one making for an earth shattering experience that is to be remembered and treasured.

Yep, I am a romantic!

rebecca said...

The Sea

(1)

The Sea! the Sea! the open Sea!

The blue, the fresh, the ever free!

Without a mark, without a bound,

It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round;

It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies;

Or like a cradled creature lies.
(2)

I'm on the Sea! I'm on the Sea!

I am where I would ever be;

With the blue above, and the blue below,

And silence wheresoe'er I go;

If a storm should come and awake the deep,

What matter? I shall ride and sleep.

(3)

I love (oh! how I love) to ride

On the fierce foaming bursting tide,

When every mad wave drowns the moon,

Or whistles aloft his tempest tune,

And tells how goes the world below,

And why the south-west blasts do blow.
(4)

I never was on the dull tame shore

but I lov'd the great Sea more and more,

And backwards flew to her billowy breast,

Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest;

And mother she was, and is to me;

For I was born on the open Sea!

~~~by aoc powerlevewling

jade said...

your poetry is so beautiful and moving. i haven't been on in awhile b/c my computer and i were dukin' it out (needless to say, i won!), but when i logged in to read your blog, i realized i'd lost the link; had to search for hours to find it. that's how addictive your words are. missed 'em while i was away.

breath-taking poem.

peace. love. light.