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_Fairlight_

_Fairlight_

Really Experienced
Joined
Aug 2, 2015
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one day I sent a scribble to a friend, and he told me it was a poem.

so here I am. :)

poets don't bite, do they?
 
_Fairlight_ said:
one day I sent a scribble to a friend, and he told me it was a poem.

so here I am. :)

poets don't bite, do they?
Click to expand...

just gently on the very tips after ensuring that they are erect and perked up from all the sucking and licking I am sure y'all enjoy that a lot;)
WTf is goin' on here tho?


Be happy,
:D:D:D:D:D
Cheers
Boom
 
A small scribble, off the top of my bedhead, first thing in the morning.



The Misery of Distance

I am so lonely for
His arms around me
His kisses on my lips
His breath on my shoulder
His whispers in my ear

I can almost feel him
Almost taste him
Almost smell him
Almost hear him

...almost.
 
_Fairlight_ said:
A small scribble, off the top of my bedhead, first thing in the morning.



The Misery of Distance

I am so lonely for
His arms around me
His kisses on my lips
His breath on my shoulder
His whispers in my ear

I can almost feel him
Almost taste him
Almost smell him
Almost hear him

...almost.
Click to expand...

Nice, Fairlight. Like the way the title sets up the narrative.

Very musical; not sure I'd add the last "almost." Seems unnecessary.

It might be fun to stretch the imagery here: a café au chocolat in some bistro on the Left Bank in Paris perhaps, not sure if he's going to come?
 
greenmountaineer said:
Nice, Fairlight. Like the way the title sets up the narrative.

Very musical; not sure I'd add the last "almost." Seems unnecessary.

It might be fun to stretch the imagery here: a café au chocolat in some bistro on the Left Bank in Paris perhaps, not sure if he's going to come?
Click to expand...

thanks for your feedback. :)
 
if he thinks they've seen my dark and secret places
he's wrong

if he thinks they've heard my whimpered pleading whispers
they haven't

if he thinks they've tasted the salt along my collarbone
or inhaled my cassolette
or stroked my velveteen depths with sweaty, single-minded purpose
it isn't so


if he thinks of me at all
 
My prison is a watery grave of tears and you put me here with your tender attentions and your soft caresses and your sweet, sweet words.

Like a cedar-scented siren, you held me in your arms and sang my heart a lullaby, and I didn't see the cage closing round me for the starfish in my eyes.

Then you slipped away from me and through the bars and left me here to drown in my passion and my grief.
 
_Fairlight_ said:
My prison is a watery grave of tears and you put me here with your tender attentions and your soft caresses and your sweet, sweet words.

Like a cedar-scented siren, you held me in your arms and sang my heart a lullaby, and I didn't see the cage closing round me for the starfish in my eyes.

Then you slipped away from me and through the bars and left me here to drown in my passion and my grief.
Click to expand...
lovin' the starfish in your eyes phrase - very visual, unique (to this reader, anyway) and perfect for the underwater theme :cool:
 
butters said:
lovin' the starfish in your eyes phrase - very visual, unique (to this reader, anyway) and perfect for the underwater theme :cool:
Click to expand...

Thank you:rose:

I wasn't sure if it would seem as tbough I was trying too hard, but I liked it, so I left it. :)
 
Considering Compromise

I don't care
If you're with someone else
If you're smitten with her
If you don't have room for me in your heart

I'll wait my turn
I'll take the leftovers
I'll settle for room in your bed
Just let me be with you

A desperate plea
A fading hope
An unwelcome truth

The sparkle leaves my eyes
The blush leaves my cheeks
The joy leaves my limbs and my song

Resignation settles in like a thick tule fog
Silencing every cry, every prayer
Every whisper and wish
And it's over
 
tumblr-ne5vax-GF801u2o0rmo1-500.jpg


Sit just here, my darling
Let me show you my heart

All i need from you is this:
Your eyes watching over me
The gift of your smile
Your hand on my head, caressing my cheek
And your voice calling my name

I don't need you to fix anything
I only need you to be
And to let me be close to you

To kiss your hands, your feet
To lay my head on your shoulder
To feel the blessed breath of the one i adore

Call me to you and i am already there
The golden velvet river of your presence my vision and reward

Don't change the key that your life is written in
Don't change a note
Let me sit, and stay, and listen
And sing you back the heaven you inspire

​
 
Baby.
He says to me in a soft voice that breathes through me, body and soul.
We're not fucking.

He says this over and over during our time together
Always jerking me back to attention, like a parent telling a child engrossed in play
It's almost time to go.

His maple syrup eyes sparkle at my concern and confusion.
He purses his pomegranate lips at me and licks them
While I hold my breath and stare.

He is the Master Of Ceremonies and the three ring circus, and
I am helpless to leave my seat and flee this tent.
The faintest of winks, a soft kiss blown
The playful lilt in his declaration tells me that we are indeed fucking
And we do.

This candy coated voice of his, calling me sugar-this and sugar-that
Sweeter than any virgin in her white good girl panties.
He knows where to pour his Kool-Aid into the cracks of my heart
Until it is dripping with him.

His attentions become a river I cannot ford, nor do I want to
And I am carried away to my destiny, to my doom.
 
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