i'd discovered real organic pleasure
at a young age,
daring to pioneer places beneath my skirt's linen fabric and
feeling things i didn't know how to describe.
becoming an addict was not hard and
i quickly found that i could deliver to myself some of the most overpowering experiences
felt by
any woman.
my fingers know what i want and
my body tells me how to breathe and
my hair sprawled across my soft plush pillow
sweeps over my bliss and smile, telling me not to stop.
skin turns silk and pink,
drenched in aches and ecstasy.
there's a power in knowing that
i control myself,
knowing that i can make myself writhe in sweat and delve in dipping the tip of a finger
into a warm ocean
of senses.















Comments
--
I AM the Saint of blasphemy.
= )
--
"unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, i love you then!"
-Allen Ginsberg, "sunflower sutra"
if you have any suggestions for a title, please don't hold back haha
but in the mean time, i'll keep trying to think of an appropriote one.
--
"unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, i love you then!"
-Allen Ginsberg, "sunflower sutra"
--
I AM the Saint of blasphemy.
Nice imagery...amazing sensory...I almost felt as if my own fingers were dancing on me.
--
"Surely if we knew what bitterness fate held in store, we would shrink back in fear and let the cup of life pass us by untasted."
'Kushiel's Dart' by Jacqueline Carey
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