resplendent
adj 1: having great beauty and splendor; "a glorious spring morning"; "a glorious sunset"; "splendid costumes"; "a kind of splendiferous native simplicity" [syn: glorious, splendid, splendiferous] 2: richly and brilliantly colorful [syn: flamboyant, unrestrained]
I love words. I love their power and their sheen. I love that they elude and compel, pressure and create desire, they are capable of transporting and grounding, soothing and agitating.
Yes words are sublime.
Created and destroyed, little deaths, making power and diffusing it.
Descending Into Eden
Watching myself descend, nerves become ignited, flesh begins to hum
Slowly slipping betwixt the silken pillars, hoping and sensing the readiness of the orchids nectar.
Nosing my way down the path.
Stomach trembling.
Heart pounding out a primordial cadence.
Skin an electric fire.
Head swimming in chemical euphoria.
Slowly tasting my way down the paths of velvet.
Sensing the coming tide of scent and motion.
Fluid "Being"
Flushing cheeks and blood unchecked.
Gorges the minor and fills the major.
Scent rising in the winds.
Heat flying and ascending in whisps of steam.
Inching closer now.
Fingers grasping for the lightest stronghold.
Circling and finding their way to the certain pinnacles.
Hands clasping gently and adventuring near and far.
Spreading the pillars ever so slightly, as to gain access to the door.
Kissing, tasting, nearing, circling, and probing with a thumb to find the key,
that sets the tide in motion.
Teasing the gate keeper, being close, but not touching...never really grabbing hold of the key.
I only nuzzle forward, on my belly, trying to taste the electrified fur.
Feeling the waves beginning.
Seeing the fortress curve and hump.
Seeing the pillars closing in and the fingers searching to push the seeker closer, tighter and deeper into the door.
No!!
Must wait, tongue must not reach the nectar yet.
To drink now, will spoil the journey.
Must wait...
Scent is stronger now...
Over powering now.
Can not resist..
Must feel the flame on the tip of my tongue......
Teasing must cease..
Giving in to the motion of fingers and compelling movements, making efforts to reach the door.
Face forward, lapping motion, full and flat and slow and long....
Probing the source of this Eden...
Sipping the well of this nectar......
Feeling the key, the flame, between my lips, glancing over with my tongue.
Continuing motion and compulsion, cycles of flames and scent, wisping of the steam, and writhing of the fortress......until the time of tides.......
Has come.
SAE
adj 1: having great beauty and splendor; "a glorious spring morning"; "a glorious sunset"; "splendid costumes"; "a kind of splendiferous native simplicity" [syn: glorious, splendid, splendiferous] 2: richly and brilliantly colorful [syn: flamboyant, unrestrained]
I love words. I love their power and their sheen. I love that they elude and compel, pressure and create desire, they are capable of transporting and grounding, soothing and agitating.
Yes words are sublime.
Created and destroyed, little deaths, making power and diffusing it.
Descending Into Eden
Watching myself descend, nerves become ignited, flesh begins to hum
Slowly slipping betwixt the silken pillars, hoping and sensing the readiness of the orchids nectar.
Nosing my way down the path.
Stomach trembling.
Heart pounding out a primordial cadence.
Skin an electric fire.
Head swimming in chemical euphoria.
Slowly tasting my way down the paths of velvet.
Sensing the coming tide of scent and motion.
Fluid "Being"
Flushing cheeks and blood unchecked.
Gorges the minor and fills the major.
Scent rising in the winds.
Heat flying and ascending in whisps of steam.
Inching closer now.
Fingers grasping for the lightest stronghold.
Circling and finding their way to the certain pinnacles.
Hands clasping gently and adventuring near and far.
Spreading the pillars ever so slightly, as to gain access to the door.
Kissing, tasting, nearing, circling, and probing with a thumb to find the key,
that sets the tide in motion.
Teasing the gate keeper, being close, but not touching...never really grabbing hold of the key.
I only nuzzle forward, on my belly, trying to taste the electrified fur.
Feeling the waves beginning.
Seeing the fortress curve and hump.
Seeing the pillars closing in and the fingers searching to push the seeker closer, tighter and deeper into the door.
No!!
Must wait, tongue must not reach the nectar yet.
To drink now, will spoil the journey.
Must wait...
Scent is stronger now...
Over powering now.
Can not resist..
Must feel the flame on the tip of my tongue......
Teasing must cease..
Giving in to the motion of fingers and compelling movements, making efforts to reach the door.
Face forward, lapping motion, full and flat and slow and long....
Probing the source of this Eden...
Sipping the well of this nectar......
Feeling the key, the flame, between my lips, glancing over with my tongue.
Continuing motion and compulsion, cycles of flames and scent, wisping of the steam, and writhing of the fortress......until the time of tides.......
Has come.
SAE