Arhive pe categorii: Dragoste, pasiune

What Is to Be?

Publicat pe de Standard Răspunde

What will happen then, when drained of all our might,
We fall on pillows—two torches burned by night?
Will sleep embrace us after passion’s storm,
Entwined as one, bathed in the moon’s soft form?

Will you smile gently, like a child with sweets,
Or tease once more, still craving fresh repeats?
Will you obey my heart’s discreet command,
And make me trust the fables you have planned.?

Will your hand travel slowly, down my brow,
Lost in the lines that time has etched somehow?
Will you lay your curls, in tender disarray,
Upon my chest, and softly there you’ll stay?

Or will you laugh, a secret on your face:
“Between us two, there is no binding trace.
What was remains a fleeting happenstance—
You walk your path, and I another chance.”

You’ll say it all was nothing but a flaw,
That longing fades like colds we’ve had before.
You’ll pull your coat and hurry from my sight—
Your steps dissolve in fog before first light.

The dream

Publicat pe de Standard Răspunde

I sink into the night’s deep lore,
My mind a calm and gentle stream
That carries me forevermore
Toward my soft-embracing dream.

Inside the realm my heart has sought,
I live a second life anew.
There, lost beyond all time and thought,
I fall till morning’s light breaks through.

Ah—how the winds of dreaming sigh…
The thread snaps loose; it will not hold.
The waking world drifts far and dry—
I dive in dreams, as fate unfolds.

I glide… then fade in shadow’s seam.
You float now close, beside my head.
Your breath becomes my pillow’s gleam;
I feel your touch, as light as thread.

Within, I sense a tightening ache,
As though my soul were pressed and bound;
The torment is the wait we take
For passion’s flames to leap unbound.

I crave the feather-soft caress
Your tender fingertips impart;
They shake me into sweet distress,
Like your serene gaze grips my heart.

We’ll melt away from earthly ties,
Becoming mist and gentle rain.
We’ll be one breath that stirs the skies,
Dissolving, joined as one again.

It’s but a dream—yet hope is born;
I swear this dream is fate’s decree:
The scales of love that once were sworn
Still rock us in their memory.

Where lies the line that marks the start—
A dream, or raw reality?
For some say love’s a cursed art
That haunts this mortal life we see.

2005

Full moon

Publicat pe de Standard Răspunde

Let’s leave our rings forgotten on the table,
And drown this moment in a trembling sin.
The hourglass remains unmoved, inert, unable,
While in the sheets we trade our fluids within.

Like Nosferatu, thirsting still for blood,
We’ll hide as two beneath the moonlit veil.
Beneath the skin our sharpened fangs will thud,
Uncaring of the world that loves to rail.

On full-moon nights when strength begins to fade,
Moaning, pierced by His celestial dart,
We’ll roam the flesh – its winding, long arcade —
Together, till the dawn tears us apart.

22.12.2017

A painter

Publicat pe de Standard Răspunde

I’d wish to be a painter true,
To take the color from your lips,
And with it paint, in gentle drips,
A flower glowing scarlet hue.

From out your hair I’d steal the night —
That dense adornment, rich and deep,
As if from molten tar would creep.
With it I’d paint the darkest light.

From your eyes’ blue I’d beg a trace —
So deep and grand, like heaven’s dome,
Where truth itself has made its home.
With it I’d paint a star in space.

The purest white I’d also take
From pearly teeth that shyly gleam,
That hide a smile — a tender dream.
I’d steal it with my brush, awake.

Your breasts — two seeds of dusky hue,
Of warmest brown, so rich, divine,
That stir the soul to stray, to pine —
They lead my thoughts to shameless truth.

To paint a living spring, I’d plead,
A dew-kissed sheet where dawn once cried…
From your pure cheek, where tears reside,
Grant me that drop of crystal need.

But paint I can’t — there is no wonder,
For I would paint the universe.
I end instead this humble verse —
For I’m no painter… but a versemonger.

30.01.2016

Feline

Publicat pe de Standard Răspunde



With catlike, silent paces
You’re coming close to me,
Your small lips, soft embraces —
Purr something wickedly.

Your being, pure sensation,
Radiates hot desire,
My eyes find fascination
In thigh waves rising higher.

On four small paws you wander,
Feline and slow and sweet,
You crawl — I watch, I ponder —
So softly our eyes meet.

Your eyes — twin flames that capture,
Two spells of pure delight,
Your form writes out its rapture
In curves that tempt the night.

Imagined ropes now tether
My hands and feet in place,
I feel your wild breath’s weather —
The maiden’s feline grace.

I wait — my pulse’s thunder —
To face my fate divine.
Your will I’ll sink under —
Fulfill your wish — make mine.

Loved moon

Publicat pe de Standard Răspunde

I met a girl with a name from Skies.
With curly hair and big brown eyes.
From „loved moon” her name derives.
For all day long she simply shines.

She’s warm and light – a butterfly.
Cannot forget her. I have tried.
I might get blind and a bit confused,
She has the appearance of a Muse.

Her beauty’s dangerous like a fire.
She’s a hypnotic man’s desire.
Though, that is sure I will miss
Her juicy, soft, and passionate lips.

28.11.2022