When I Read Your Words I Feel So Naked
When I Read Your Words I Feel So Naked
Breathlessly,
In my mind
I imagine you are there beside me
Naked too,
and on my right
sitting behind me
whispering each word
into my ear as I read you
silently.
I hear each sibilance
as it passes your teeth
each plosive syllable
as it pops from between
your moistened lips,
every affricative
formed between tooth and lip,
the F’s escaping
like some intoxicating vapor,
the V’s buzzing
and waving their stingers.
I feel you breathing in my ear.
I feel your hair
against my neck and shoulders
as your nipples brush
against my arms and back.
You turn a phrase as if each word
is your own tongue
licking and flicking
inside my ear.
A tongue so long it slithers and slides
all the way
inside my brain,
and coils up like a snake,
(if only snakes could wink
and smile)…
A soft metaphor
lays a gentle hand
upon my thigh
as similes
slowly drag
their nails upwards
while you tickle
my fancy
with innuendos
that hint at promises
unspoken
almost too good
to be true
anywhere but here.
This thing we do with words…
And yet I do not even know
the color of your hair,
be it blonde
or brown,
chestnut,
red,
or even black
as raven’s wing.
I try to picture you in my mind.
Full of figure,
slender,
tall
or short,
dark
or pale
or
something in between…
It matters not,
I realize,
just now
because it
is not
the way you look
that seduces me
so boldly
and provocatively
with subtlety
and grace
as you coyly undress my mind
with words
that conjure
feelings,
passion,
and desire
as yet untasted,
so rigid
and yet so flexible
and willing to be led,
or rather
pulled
the way the moon
will raise the tides
time after time.
Forever.
Now.
You draw me
to a bed
of words
both soft and firm
and lay me down
to wallow in your
imagery,
impaled upon
my imagination…
This thing we do with words…
I wonder how your voice will sound
if ever you should speak to me.
Will it be soft?
or
with an edge
as keen
as the arrows
of a huntress
who shoots straight through the heart,
but only takes what she consumes?
Perhaps a husky whiskey voice
deep,
yet darkly feminine,
or maybe
high and clear
like a fairy’s song
as wood nymph
or siren
might use to call
and conjure
spells
like those that you have cast
on me.
These things we do with words,
my friend
and lover
of confidences
together,
implied
as well as
inferred.
A union of souls and spirits
incapable of jealousies
or possessiveness,
giving freely and taking gratefully
in this world we’ve made
of our own
where writer and reader
alike
slake our cravings, lusts
and passions…
to be heard and understood.
To lead each other
to a place beyond mere words alone,
where there is only knowing.
This thing we do with words….
Like a reciprocated Kiss,
…the only kind of Snowball
that has a chance in Hell,
we pass our words
and images
and idea(l)s
back and forth
between us now,
The Union of the Woman and the Man.
The Union of the Writer and the Reader.
The Union of Truth and Wisdom.
The Union of the Word and the Idea.
The Union of the Idea and the Understanding.
The Union of the Understanding and the Enlightenment.
The Union of Giving and Receiving
freely without conditions or reservation.
What is Love?
You already know…
This is Love.
Pass it on
wherever you go.
The more you give
The more you will have.
Wear it like Sunshine
on your face
so I will know you
instantly
if we should ever meet,
even
if it takes a thousand lifetimes.
This entry was posted on February 13, 2014 at 11:58 am and is filed under A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, A Womens Flower, Appreciation, Celebration, Collaboration, Dirty, Erotic Poetry, Fornicating, Fun, Imp Of The Perverse, Jantor To The Temple Of The Holy of Holies, Knowledge, Liason Between Parties, Love, Mature Theme, Much To Good For Children, Much Too Good For Children, Naked, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Poetry, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Sentience, Sex, Share The Love, The Id, The Wisdom, Zen with tags Confessions of a Mad Philosopher, Dharma, Dirty, Gratitude, Knowledge, Love, Much Too Good For Children, Naked, Polyamory, possibly dangerous to everyone, Sanctuary, The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, Wisdom, Zen. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
February 13, 2014 at 12:41 pm
WOW Chazz! I don’t – can’t even gather words for a response. This writing blows my mind. How do you do that? Seriously. I’m going out for a smoke. Jayne
February 13, 2014 at 1:19 pm
I have to tell you, I read this just as I was pondering how to leave Blogland. Your poetry pulled me right back. : )
February 14, 2014 at 11:45 pm
Then, to quote one of my favorite muses…I hit my mark…XO
February 14, 2014 at 11:57 pm
LOLOL Touche!
I like smart asses and sharp wits!
Seriously though, Should I have asked you to reblog that? I’m confused if I’m supposed to or not because the “reblog” button is right out there.
Your poem for Suki was another thing of beauty. Your open heart is showing and shining bright! xo Jayne
February 15, 2014 at 2:05 am
I seriously doubt that I would be inclined to deny any of your wishes, but you have my standing prior approval to reblog anything I write, anytime, anywhere…although I have a shy side initially in personal contacts (sometimes), I am an exhibitionist at heart, and love the exposure.
Thanks. I am blessed to have such wonderful sources of inspiration.
February 15, 2014 at 2:40 am
I bow, naked but caped, to your generosity. thank you, J
February 13, 2014 at 2:49 pm
Lovely words for your lady blogger friend.
Glad you have that connection with her and hope you can both meet one day. 🙂
xox
February 15, 2014 at 2:51 am
Thank you. I am blessed that (I believe) she already knows it was for her, (I hope) in that she inspired it, but there is a part of me that lives to worship women in a very general sense as well…it is my idolatry…a Janitor to the Temple of the Holy of Holies. 😉
And, Yes, Sofia…me too…me too. My curiosity runs wild with speculation. Many might be inclined to fear disappointment by the reality, but she has a beautiful mind that bespeaks a deeply passionate romantic spirit that could easily blind me to just about anything short of…I don’t even know…when minds meet, and hearts touch, everything after that is just window dressing.
Besides…I have been told I am easy on the eyes, but I’m no George Clooney…who am I to judge? If she turned out to be a he I would be shocked…but there is a part of me that believes she is a most splendid example of all that is beautiful, and it would take a lot to change that opinion. I just hope it doesn’t take a thousand lifetimes….
February 15, 2014 at 2:55 am
Trust me (and I am taking a leap of faith because I follow both your blogs and I am going by my 6th sense) she knows and you won’t be disappointed if you should ever meet. 🙂
You sound like a wonderful person as well.
xox
February 13, 2014 at 9:05 pm
Reblogged this on Diary Incarnate and commented:
This is a work of art… and if you call yourself a romantic, even in the slightest way, read on and feel. If you don’t, this may make you one. Jayne
February 15, 2015 at 8:06 am
a year and a day later, I found this…it makes me want to blog again…and more than this…it makes me want….
February 18, 2015 at 10:51 am
This comment of yours has come at a very tender time of mine. You lightened my heart. xo, Jayne