The Lover


The Lover

Writing is the neglected Lover who calls me away from a stifling my 13 hour workdays.  It is the hunger that demands to be fed.  The passion that must be satisfied.

The dilemma: money vs. true love.  I need the money but I must feed my soul.  Only when I answer the voice of my muse am I truly engaged in this life.

My fervor is akin to amusing myself with dilettantes whilst the face of my Lover is ever before me.  The Lover is the orgasm I seek on a nightly basis.

I feel his long slender fingers playing over my body like the keyboard on a piano.

The music he produces brings an exotic mixture of pain and ecstasy.  It’s an addiction that dominates my mind, soul, spirit and body.  A craving only he can satisfy.

Only his lean taut body, his touch can bring me to spiritually fulfilling orgasmic pleasure when after hours of lovemaking I lock my legs around his torso in those final eternal moments of sensual paradise.

Sometimes he comes to me on the wings of a night bird. A beautiful dark & twisted fantasy.  A Midnight Dream so real you’ve only exchanged one dimension for another.  Whilst the full moon reigns I pass through many long and varied portals.  I taste the sounds of evening on your lips.  Feel the words slipping through fingers.  The crested muse rides the galactic wave gliding silently o’er my cerebral universe seeking a docking station whereby I may be subsumed into His flesh.

One thought on “The Lover

  1. Wow sis, I didn’t think you had that in you. Very nice and I went there. You could take this many different ways and it makes the imagination go wild, well mine anyway. I’m kinda way out there, but very good story, passage, reading. Smile!

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