Secreted Sins: Warmth →
secretedsins: “I hope it isn’t cold there.” Just the faintest whisper, the shallowest, most delicate of breaths slipping from her lips; no more than a fading hush,— “I hope it isn’t cold.” Oh, to comfort, to console such a gently fading soul poised elegantly for the passing. “No fear, little one. No fear. …
The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so...– Bertrand Russell (via nonsmokingsmoker)
Can we find our feet standing on the earth of a place we’ve never seen?– Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
A Timeless Quest
secretedsins: My search for love will never die so long as stars still fill the sky, so long as waves still pound the shore and gentle summer rains still pour. While rivers rage and winds still blow, while winter brings the falling snow, so long as I have dreams to mend, my search for love will never end.
some things i would tell her, if i could.
secretedsins: blankpagesandinvisibleink: he’s brilliant. challenge him. he’s passionate. inspire him. he’s a dreamer. ground him. he’s driven. support him. he’s moody. lift him up. he’s cynical. prove him wrong. he’s loyal. stand by him. he’s honest. be up front with him. he’s fragile. be gentle with him. he’s yours now. love him. ~~~~~~~~~~ Well done, my friend.
More Than Just a Taste →
secretedsins: Full, soft lips part ever so slightly, barely baring hints of pearl-white teeth and the tip of twisting tongue beneath. Nostrils flare and mouth waters at the sweet, succulent scent, and hungry eyes devour the flesh bared to him before the first taste, as longing lips are wetted with a snaking, languorous lick. Meeting soft, yielding flesh clad in downy fuzz, his moistened lips...
secretedsins: My beloved muse wears the spectrum of Earth’s hues and pinyon perfume.
Behind Perceptions: The Compass →
behindperceptions: since birth; the day I was boarded onto this spaceship that we call Earth, I’ve climbed many mountains in an attempt to breathe the fresh air of the truth I was seeking, wrote many poems under the dim lit streetlights in an attempt to capture within…
The man who is proudly certain of his own value will want the highest type of...– Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged (via secretedsins)
mywrds: did you know i would touch you there that way and not stop oh i hear you asking, stop but then what is too much did you know what my plan was where I was going once I had my hands on you you gave me license to do as I please and I shall
secretedsins: The tide ebbs, and flows, but the blindest of fools knows the ocean remains. Such is love.
my words: offer, taken →
mywrds: Sitting alone in the hollow dark she thinks again of her offer echoing back from his lips That need within burning hot and untouched for far too long Wanting to feel wanted Needing to feel needed Desire for desire Her fingers move slowly, without thought tracing his path on her skin Her eyes…
A Dream of Peace
A dream in itself; to fall asleep in your arms and know what peace is…
Misfit Words-Poetry for The Uninvited: A Dash of... →
misfit-words: We’re all going to die So why don’t we try To have a little bit of fun Before our smiles are gone I won’t take my eyes off of you I don’t want to miss anything you do Live tonight I promise that it’ll feel right We’ll make it to the light Everything will be fine Tonight just say you’re mine We…
soulpensieve: there is something about your eyes that infects my thoughts as it searches for a spirit that was purposefully lost there is something about your smile that on my walls pound as it hunts for a heart that refuses to be found there is something about your being that whispers to my pain saying to my soul you don’t have to hurt again
thedustwillsing: We buried ourselves in an ocean that was a kiss. The tide pulled our bodies closer together as your eyes read the universe for navigation. We were lost at sea searching for love in salt stained lips and water filled ribcages We swam together until we reached the edge of the world; a waterfall We fell into the stars together holding each other as...
mevirusyou: sometimes I want to take you in like cheap liquor, hard and straight back I want you to pass my lips So desperate to feel you slip over my tongue just to feel the warmth when you fall into me. I want to guzzle you down in excess like a teenager looking to let go without knowing what that means. I want to be irresponsible with myself casting walls aside and losing control of the...
Rakuli: The life her presence gives me →
rakuli: Two shining lights die Each time she shuts her eyes She sleeps I grieve at loss of The life her presence gives me Two shining lights reanimate Each time sun shines past her lashes She wakes I rejoice with hope for The life her presence gives me Two kindred souls align Each time she speaks her…
ghostsandonionskins: I took your hand the wind advanced but wove a circle while we danced I wrote a song that pressed the sun to two blue coins your eyes undone I drove a car through hurricane to hold you warm within the rain You took my hand and slowed me down lest in my fever I would drown a boy with hopes to give the world forgo the quest to know the girl
A Taste of your Sky
eloisegraceetc: I still long to know The mystery of your skin What your sky tastes like The sound of your soul sighing This fantasy burns in me Fierce with desire For a little piece of you Whispered words of love A mouthful of your divine The touch of your sweet darkness I will sip from it
Sensuality without love is a sin; love without sensuality is worse than a sin.– José Bergamín. Spanish writer, essayist, poet, and playwright. (via notsophiesworld)
Secreted Sins: A Torrid Affair →
secretedsins: I touch your special place,— that small, soft button that never fails in stirring you to life, and you emit a low, silken purr, rising at my pressing touch to a throaty, raspy, sultry growl; a song of passion and power veiled, it echoes in my mind and through my yearning soul. As slowly…
And I will love you long after the wind lifts me and spreads me at sea.– Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
I prefer by far the warmth and softness to mere brilliancy and coldness. Some...– Anaïs Nin (via philosophereyes)
Who hasn’t asked [oneself], am I a monster or is this what it means to be human?– Clarice Lispector (via observedintoexistence)
secretedsins: Lust is not a fleeting feeling; an emotion; a simple sense of need. Lust is the marrow within the bones that form my formidible frame; the current flashing through synapses; the life-blood coursing through my veins. Lust is the beast that lives within— My secret, sacred self who has no name.