Sunday, December 14, 2008

The Need To Touch.

A deserted hill,
A forgotten tree.
A random soul,
A spirit free.

A buried treasure.
A raindrop,
About to merge with the sea.
A tempest.
A gentle breeze.
A pagan Goddess of contrasts.


In the darkness,
She hides.
Her mocking smile,
Her alluring scent,
Beckons you into her trap.
Her sinuous dance,
Fluttering eyelashes,
Silky tresses,
And you yearn for her caresses.

Burned into your bones,
Stamped upon your soul,
Amidst tantalizing gestures,
She will lead you astray,
You follow her to where she goes,
An earthbound man you are,
In the stars she resides.

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