Timothy

Jack's Twisted Kingdom
2003-03-27 04:41:21 (UTC)

flicker of a lie


what was here, was nothing of import.
what is here, is something to be forgotten;

a dalliance in the night, and it shall be
lost in time, never to occur again, I
feel I've worn out that welcome dance
perhaps reading too much into things, or not
but then again, we are/were two ships
passing in the night, I did not love her,
but to be sure, in another time and
another place, one could fall for her
with no less control than a star falling
across the moonlit sky, and even if you
or I could stop it, why should we want to?

that is the lesson, a lie is forever, truth
is the weeping blood seeping from the wound,
which binds us to false memories of things
that never happened.

~Timothy

porcelain skinned she was, red
locks tied into shafts in her wake,
you wanted to pin-prick her lips
with your tongue she smelled of
saffron, sunshine and gunpowder

when her lips met mine I felt a
wanton lust, the trembling of her
hand teased of nervousness never
felt and the shiver of her cheek
grazing over my sandpapered face
felt like ambrosia and daffodils

so struck by our hips I fell from
her grasp, and no sooner could I
grab back at her, it burned you see
to be so far, yet so entwined as we
were for hours, slicked and slaked
our thirst, her thirst, my thirst
was barely abated, nor should I
ever have wanted such a thing

it was the kiss you, her lips, her
hips, her eyes gazing into mine own,
the shudder as my fingers twinned
down her soft wet mound groaning for
more, but then, who wouldnt want it
only those who'd never drunk from
the gates of her pink wet lips

I danced around her face, my tongue
darted in and out, I ran my fingers
down her cheek to her collar bones
where I felt a siren sound, and saw
the heaving of her breast and could
do nothing else save suck on those
brilliant puffed pearls, who could
deny, not I, nor anyone I think
an invitation to her parlour

as any paramour might ascribe, we
shuddered our last gasps into the
night, neither sated, longing for
more, the tingling lasting for hours
and hours more.


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